Merlin Pants, Help me!
by Naeriel
Summary: Hermione Granger takes a nap and when she awakens, things aren't exactly as she left them.
1. Chapter 1

_**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. I write merely for entertainment purposes.**_

_**Summary:**__ Hermione Granger takes a nap and when she awakens, things aren't exactly as she left them._

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Merlin Pants, Help ME!

Chapter I

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Ronald's loud voice echoed inside her head as she made her way towards the room of requirements. How dare he?! How dare he humiliate her in front of everyone back at the common room? Furious tears welled up but she stubbornly refused to let them escape. She would not cry. Was he really that dense? Was he not aware that the words he spoke were vindictive and hurtful?

_Seriously, what do I even see in him?! _She thought angrily as the door of the room of requirements materialized in front of her, ready to take her in and hide her from the world.

Feeling completely exhausted, she took a good look at her surroundings, happy with the environment that the room provided for her. A true replica of her room back at home stood before her, making her instantly feeling better. Heaving a long sigh, she dragged herself towards her bed and lay down; facing her ceiling where magical stars sparkled back at her.

The bushy-brown haired girl closed her eyes and bit her lower lip, struggling with her emotions, blatantly refusing to cry. Her throat hurt and her eyes stung with unwanted tears.

"I hate you Ronald Weasely," she whispered softly as she closed her eyes and felt herself drifting away.

* * *

Hermione Granger sat up abruptly.

Her eyes were wide open and she took deep long breaths feeling as though she had just run a bloody marathon. The sun was blinding her making it hard for her to see. Suddenly, a cold feeling ran up and down her spine and she quickly jumped to her feet, looking around in deep confusion. Where was she? This was clearly not the room of requirements.

Swallowing hard, she noticed she was out in the wild, which was impossible! She had to be dreaming. She stared, open-mouthed, at the scene around her. She was in the middle of field, the green grass seemed to mock her as it extended on and on for miles. Who on Merlin's beard would do this to her?!

She tried to focus and quickly looked down, glad to find her wand with her. Surely, there was some logic reason behind all this? She nodded quietly as to reassure herself. She needed to get going, staying here waiting for answers to fall from the sky would get her nowhere.

Her hand gripped her wand tightly. Even though the war was over, there was still death eaters wandering around and one could not be too careful. As she walked south, she wrecked her brain trying to come up with a list of possibilities. Perhaps as she slept, she touched some sort of portkey? Eyes widening, Hermione gasped. Surely, the bed was one? That was the only logic explanation she could come up with.

It didn't matter. She suddenly came to a halt and almost hit herself. She could just apparate!

"No no!" she cursed loudly when apparating didn't work. Now she looked around, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. Just where was she? If this was some kind of prank it was not funny at all! Heads would roll if she found the culprit behind this. Gritting her teeth, the young witch forced herself to keep going.

She had no idea how long she had been walking, but her legs were starting to ache. She took a deep breath and waved her wand, a relieved sigh escaped from her as the pain from her muscles was alleviated. She kept walking and finally spotted tall trees, the clear field finally giving way to some kind of forest. As Hermione walked between the trees, her eyes widened and her heart began racing as she spotted a small road made of dirt. Surely that would lead her to population!

Finding comfort in the thoughts of finding population, she ventured further with renewed strength. She walked faster, even though she felt that she was on the edge of exhaustion.

Hermione stopped at the end of the road, her brown eyes contemplating the sight before her. A village was right before her; there were small cottage-like houses that looked like they needed serious reparations, there was also several people mounted on horses and old-fashioned carriages going about their business. It was as if she was on the set of some movie but there weren't any cameras.

She walked slowly and carefully, approaching the houses with apprehension as she stared at the clothing the locals were wearing. Suddenly, an awful stench filled her nostrils making her gag and she realized she had just walked past horse feces.

Frowning, she crossed the road in a hurry, not noticing how everyone seemed to look at her in awe.

"Excuse me! Sir!" Hermione shouted as she approached the lonely man who looked somewhat mortified that she chose him to talk to out of everyone else standing by, "Can you please tell me what's the name of this place?!"

The man's eyes widened as though she had grown a second-head and he shook his head, looking somewhat embarrassed, and spouted some words that Hermione did not recognize. It was only then that the brown-haired young woman realized he was speaking a whole different language. Her heart skipped a beat and panic started to coarse through her veins.

Was she not in England anymore? How was this even possible?!

"Sir? Please, does none of you speak English?" she tried as she looked around, watching with a frown as the locals stepped backwards, trying to get as far away as possible from her. "Italiano? Español? Français?!"

When no one replied and slowly walked away from her, she felt angry, confused and frightened. Swallowing hard, she chastised herself. _Get yourself together_, she thought sternly. First she needed to find a place to spend the night at as it was getting dark. Once she found a place to stay she would definitely find a telephone. Then she could finally call home and understand what was going on.

Hermione finally noticed the constant staring and the whispering. It was getting on her nerves but she clenched her jaw and bit her tongue. Fighting with these people would get her nowhere. _Let them stare, _she thought bitterly as she kept walking through the strange looking-cobblestone. She noticed how the streets looked quite wide, probably to allow the horses and all the carriages. As she turned around the corner, she was surprised as she contemplated the market ahead.

People chatted animatedly while they finished closing up their stalls for the day. While the previous street smelled awfully, she could tell that other scents were more prominent here. The air smelled almost pleasantly, a mixture of cinnamon, pine and incense.

She walked through the crowd, feeling highly conscious of how different she looked from all the other women. She wrapped her cloak around her to cover the sight of her dark stockings as all the women here wore long dresses. She walked into what looked to be some sort of tavern which had a wooden bed sign above the door. She cringed at the smell of smoke and alcohol and tried to ignore it as best as she could.

She spotted an old man behind the counter who was cleaning some glasses with a dirty rug. She carefully and slowly made her way towards him, "Pardon, sir. Is there a room for the night?" she asked, frowning when the man simply stared at her. It seemed that he too failed to understand her.

"Sleep!" she added and clasped her hands together, leaning them against her right cheek and closed her eyes.

"A room?!" the man inquired, startling Hermione with his rough voice. "That'd be twenty silver coins lassie." He added, arching a brow at her, probably wondering if she understood him.

She frowned, "What?!" she raised her voice as it was incredibly noisy in the tavern with all the man chatting and laughing away, "I don't understand!"

"Twenty silver coins!" he repeated and placed the cup down, showing her both of his hands, his fingers lowering for a few seconds before he raised them yet again, "Twenty!"

"Oh!" moving her hands down to her pockets, Hermione placed down the coins and a few notes on top of the counter, "Room?" she asked, now repeating the word she figured room meant.

The man eyed the money strangely and took the notes into his hands, admiring them as though he had never seen such thing before. She bit the inside of her cheek and she knew that she shouldn't do it, that it was completely illegal and wrong but she had no choice. Opening her cloak slightly, she slowly brought her wand out, pointing it at the man; _"Confundo."_

The man shook his head as if to clear his head and looked back at her and gave her a wide smile, making her wince at his rotten yellow teeth, "Ah yes, a room." He said, taking the old metal key and handing it out to her, "Number two." He said showing her two fingers, "Do you understand lassie?"

"Yes, yes, number two." She said repeating his words and taking the key from his hand.

When she arrived to her room, she was appalled by the conditions it was found in. There was a single bed; a straw mattress on the floor. It had an incredibly short and torn blanket, some sort of coverlet and a plain pillow. No sheets.

"Brilliant…" she whispered as she looked around. There were candles, probably the only sort of illumination these people had in this horrible place.

She quickly deduced that she was not home anymore. That she had figured it out a long time ago. But the thought that now ran through her head filled her with trepidation. Just how on Merlin's beard did she travel back this far in time?

It was obvious by the way those people carried themselves; the clothing, the condition the streets were in and their rural-looking houses. There were also the horses and carriages and now her room. There was no sign of a telephone or anything that screamed modern-like.

A small sob escaped from her as she sat down on the straw mattress, hiding her face between her hands. What was she going to do now?! For the first time, Hermione felt helpless and immersed in the unknown. She tried to look out for the some rational thought that could explain her being here in the middle of only Merlin knows where but nothing would come to mind. She was drawing a blank. And Hermione Granger never drew blanks.

* * *

Crouching down, his dark green robes touched the dirt of the forest ground. The large hood which was perfect to hide his features away from prying eyes, slipped backwards. Strands of dirty blonde-hair fell over his eyes as he inspected the dirt road. Slowly, he removed his wand from his cloak and tapped it twice on the ground. His lips moved but no words came out and then a smirk crept on his handsome face.

He was on the hunt and nothing was more exhilarating for him. He enjoyed being in pursuit, nothing made him feel more alive than the thrill of chasing his prey. Standing to his feet, he began walking, taking his sweet time. It seemed that his prey was confident that he was no longer following.

The man finally started to walk away, following the dirt road. His hands reached for his hood and once again, his features were concealed.

* * *

The tavern was loud as usual and muggles drank to their heart content forgetting about their pathetic useless lives if just for a moment. They sat in groups, talking, drinking and eating like savages. They obviously never heard of baths nor were fans of washing their vulgar clothing.

The watching man winced as he spotted two large dogs come inside the tavern following their owner. He took another toke from his pipe and was ready to stand when he spotted _her_. She was clearly not from here. He remained in his seat, shielded from anyone's view and watched her intently. She was rather young and seemed to be completely unescorted. How interesting.

She was clean too. Her hair was shorter than it was usual for women nowadays and she was clearly not wearing a dress. She looked somewhat conscious of that fact too as she was holding her cloak around her as though her life depended on it.

He leaned forward in his seat, blinking as both the woman and the man behind the counter seemed to struggle to understand each other. A smirk crept on his features as he kept looking at her. She would be an interesting target. Suddenly, his eyes widened in recognition as he saw her hit the man with a spell.

She was a witch.

His day couldn't get any better.

A knock on the door startled the bushy-haired witch out of her panicking mode. She stood up and fixed her cloak. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. Her eyes widened in horror and she gasped at the wand pointed at her face.

"Not a sound, do you understand?" the man threatened watching as she clumsily stepped backwards.

She looked at the man, fear dancing in her brown orbs. She didn't understand a word but she didn't have to. Whatever he was saying couldn't be anything good since he was pointing his wand at her. Surely, wizards from this time did not greet the others with wand pointing in a threatening fashion.

He stepped inside and made sure to close the door behind him. He then faced her with a frightening smile plastered on his face. She didn't know why but maybe her parent's paranoia of noticing people's dentition was getting to her and she couldn't help but stare at the man's yellow rotten teeth.

The man looked around probably noticing that she wasn't carrying any belongings with her. Was he looking for something? Swallowing hard, Hermione quickly pulled her wand out. She cast the stunning spell but was surprised with how quick he was to deflect it. She frowned as he didn't even open his mouth to cast a counter-spell.

"Protego!" the shield was raised and protected her from whatever spell he tried to hit her with. But she was caught off guard as the next spell shattered the shield completely sending her hard to the floor.

The man laughed and slowly approached her, his wand still pointed at her and then she was hit with a very familiar unforgivable curse. Her scream pierced the room as her entire body was in an excruciating pain, she trashed on the floor as though she was trying to escape from the pain but it was not relenting.

She couldn't hear anything but her own scream; she couldn't see anything either as her eyes welled up with tears, her vision blurry.

The pain suddenly subdued and a flash of green seemed to illuminate the room. She gasped for air and then watched in horror as the man's body fell next to hers lifeless. She slowly felt herself being lifted and her eyes met bright blue ones.

The hooded man looked down at her, "Are you alright, milady?" he asked her in concern.

She choked a sob and shook her head, "I d-don't understand." She whispered, tears now falling uncontrollably. "I don't understand!" she tried one more time, this time she was desperate and scared beyond limits. She wanted to go home.

"Shhh. You are safe now." He said even though they couldn't understand one another. Gently, he placed her down on the straw mattress and placed a hand on his chest, "Salazar." He told her slowly, hoping she'd understand that much.

He watched her as she blinked and slowly nodded, apprehension written all over her face.

"Hermione." She said just as slowly, placing her own hand on her chest. "Hermione Granger."

The man pulled his hood behind and flashed her a handsome smile. This man had just saved her life, surely he was trustworthy?

He nodded in understanding, "Salazar Slytherin."

Hermione's eyes widened and her surroundings suddenly closed in, swirling dangerously. A deep nausea took over her and then her eyes rolled back and she lost consciousness.

* * *

**A/N: Please everyone lend me your thoughts! This is also going to be a long story :) I feel that Salazar Slytherin X Hermione is such an amazing pair with so many plot possibilities. It's just amazing. **

**Anyway, English is not my native language and I find myself struggling with grammar. If you are a beta reader or are good with grammar and fixing minor mistakes and are interested in being my sidekick with this story, please drop a PM.**

THANK YOU FOR READING!


	2. Chapter 2

**_DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. I write merely for entertainment purposes._**

**_Summary:_**_Hermione Granger takes a nap and when she awakens, things aren't exactly as she left them._

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Merlin Pants, Help Me!

Chapter II

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Salazar's gaze studied the young woman's limp form; his brows were drawn together in a frown. The woman had suffered from an extreme painful curse so her current condition did not faze him in the least. Not many could withstand the curse and look like nothing had happened. Taking a deep breath, he scanned the room to look for anything that she could possibly own but found nothing. He had thought her to be some traveller but the lack of belongings suggested otherwise.

Shrugging, he stared now at the man's dead body. He wasn't supposed to kill him but seeing him standing there, the cruciatus curse cast upon an innocent – especially a lady – it had erased any rational thought from his being and before he realized, the killing curse had escaped from his lips.

There was nothing he could do now. Whatever business Gryffindor had with the man was also none of his concern. His head snapped towards the young woman once more and he noticed the clothes underneath the dark cloak. He had never seen such attires before; they seemed to be rather revealing and completely abhorrent.

He stood up and stopped before the witches' wand. He picked it up and ran his fingers softly through the fine quality of the wand's wood. He hid it in his waist holster and then he walked back to the young woman. There was a big mystery surrounding her and he couldn't help but to feel that she was nothing but a big puzzle; one that he needed to solve.

Taking his wand out, he aimed it at her and watched as she slowly returned to her senses.

Her eyes fluttered open rather slowly; she looked confused at first as though she had no idea where she was. Recognition lit her face and she sat abruptly, looking first at the dead man lying on the floor and then at him.

This man had just introduced himself as Salazar Slytherin! Now she knew that she had truly become mad. Maybe she was in a coma back at St. Mungus Hospital and was dreaming all this.

Noticing her panicking state, Salazar cleared his throat, having her full attention now. He then attempted a few languages and watched as she still looked scared and completely clueless. Well this was beyond frustrating! He furrowed his brows and attempted Latin.

"Where do you hail from, milady?"

At the sound of Latin, Hermione's eyes brightened and she quickly opened her mouth to speak but quickly closed it. If this man truly was Salazar Slytherin then even if he just had saved her life it meant that he couldn't be trusted. She didn't know much about the founders as there wasn't a lot of history written about them. She had searched and searched but the Hogwarts founders remained a big mystery even in her time. And all the tales revolving around Salazar Slytherin weren't exactly in his favour.

However, if he truly was who he said then he could well be her only chance to get home.

Swallowing hard, she decided to risk it, "I'm from England." She replied as she realized he had been waiting for a reply, "Hogwarts…" she ventured carefully studying his expression.

The man before her quickly stiffened and his eyes darkened slightly. His lips pressed into a thin line as though he was restraining himself from questioning her further.

Who was this woman? She claimed to be from England and yet she did not speak the common language. As Hogwarts left her lips, he knew that he could not leave her behind. He quickly decided that she was to go with him.

"You know of Hogwarts? May I ask how?" he questioned her, attempting to sound calm.

Hermione could see that he was impatient though and wondered if she had done the right thing. It was too late now. There was nothing she could do now. She took a deep breath and looked straight at him, trying to show that she was not scared. It was only then that a small thought nagged at the back of her mind, _where's my wand? WHERE'S MY WAND!?_

Completely aware that she was defenseless, it was hard to keep her gaze and she looked away, "I c-can't tell you. Please… I need to go to Hogwarts."

She couldn't tell him? He almost laughed at how the entire situation was completely ridiculous. But he would not pressure her for answers. Not yet. He could take her to Hogwarts, but he wouldn't be heading there for a while. Clenching his jaw, he found himself nodding.

"I will take you, Lady Granger." He replied and watched as she looked completely surprised at his words.

Did she seriously think that he would leave her here, all by herself? A young witch that claimed to be from the same place as he but did not speak the language… and she knew about Hogwarts too. He looked at her again; did she perhaps recognize his name?

She nodded slowly and then as she stood to her feet, she stared at him almost demandingly. He arched a brow in question, wondering what was it that she had to say.

"I would like my wand back, if you please."

His lips curved upwards into a smirk, "I think not, milady. These are dangerous times after all." He then opened the door and looked at her, "We have a long journey ahead of us."

Hermione frowned deeply. She understood that he was not relenting on giving her wand back but she didn't know what he meant with dangerous times. Was there a war going on? She suddenly shivered, perhaps a dark wizard? She had read that there had been plenty of dark wizards throughout the ages.

As she walked out the door, she looked over her shoulder to glance at the dead man. It was obvious to her now that Salazar had been after the man that had attacked her. Just who was that man? Even though question after question seemed to invade her mind, she dared not ask.

She would leave all the questioning once she was in Hogwarts. For now, she needed to focus on getting her wand back. She loathed being separated from it.

* * *

Salazar took a deep long breath and looked around him, feeling completely at home. It was getting dark but he didn't fear what might be out there. He moved with sheer confidence, with the steady gait of a man used to being out in the wilderness and covering a large territory fast. He stopped for a second and looked over his shoulder, looking as she clumsy followed him. He could hear her brisk breathing and noticed how her pale cheeks were red with the effort. They had to be walking for a while now and he was quite impressed that she lasted this long without a word of complaint.

"We shall rest here." He said as she came to stop next to him. He watched as a look of relief washed over her features.

Hermione nodded slowly and wrapped her cloak around her as she sat down, leaning her back against the trunk of a tree. She watched as he seemed to settle down some worn out brown bag and sat next to it. Her legs were aching as she had never hiked for this long, not even when she went backpacking with her parents last year.

She had been expecting him to throw question after question as they walked but he had been completely quiet. She could tell that he had been in deep thought and she hoped he hadn't been thinking anything shady. All she wanted was to get to Hogwarts as soon as possible. Looking back at him, she noticed that he had his eyes closed and only then she allowed herself to relax a little.

She found herself wondering just how old was he? He seemed to be on his twenties; his blond hair was in serious need of washing. He looked handsome too. That actually upset her; she had always imagined Salazar Slytherin to be a bitter old man, with long white hair and beard. Now here she was, accompanied by the Slytherin founder himself and he had nothing but been kind enough to her.

The silence between them was actually comforting. She preferred it this way other than having him prying into where she was from, how she came to be here. Knowledge of the future was something scary and have it in the wrong hands could lead to terrible consequences.

"You should sleep. In a few hours we will resume our walking." His voice startled her as she was not expecting him to be awake still.

She snorted and closed her eyes. She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep. There was too much to think about, so many questions unanswered. It was driving her insane.

Why did the room of requirements sent her here of all places? What kind of magic was it to be able to send her this far back in time? Opening her eyes, she huffed impatiently and resumed her staring back at the intriguing man. What was he doing here? Shouldn't he be at Hogwarts? Had he been after that man and why?

After what seemed to be an eternity she wondered if he was actually asleep. She bit her lower lip as the temptation of reaching for her wand was too strong at the moment. She needed it back, desperately so.

Hermione swallowed hard and quietly stood up. She stood still, holding her breath. It crossed her mind that he might be faking sleep but then again why would he? Surely, he needed his rest if they were to continue walking. Biting her lower lip, she stalked forward and tiptoed her way towards the blond-haired man. She could see her wand at his waist holster as his cloak was open, revealing his white tunic.

_I can't believe I'm doing this,_ she thought as her heart threatened to jump from her throat.

She came to rest besides him, shaking as she crouched down. She frowned and then nodded quietly; reassuring herself that she could do this. After all, the only thing she needed to do was to reach out for the wand and carefully remove it from his leather holster. Holding her breath, she stretched her arm – a cold sensation travelled up and down her spine when her fingertips brushed against the familiar piece of wood.

Then, her entire being stiffened when the tip of a wand was poking her throat, "Let go." His voice was above a whisper but she did not miss the hint of the threat that his words carried.

She slowly let go of her own wand and stepped backwards, losing her balance and falling down on her behind. She glared at him when his lips curved into a smirk, his eyes were glinting with amusement as he stared back at her.

"I will give you your wand back when I find that I can trust you." He told her, readjusting her wand in his holster and arched a challenging brow, daring her to contradict him.

Her glare only hardened, "It's my wand! You have no right to keep it." She retorted, her voice betraying her and showing just how frustrated she was from being separated from it. She felt naked and defenseless and if this man really claimed to be Salazar Slytherin then all the more reason to have her wand in case he tried anything.

He snorted and looked at her, "I have no reasons to trust you, little girl." He spoke and she blinked as she stared right back at him, "You claim to be from Hogwarts, yet I have never seen your face. You do not speak the common tongue and you dress… extremely strange for a woman. If you wish me to take you with me then you will stay still, obey everything I say and I might just take you to Hogwarts."

She snorted right back at him. Obey everything he says? Ah! That must be the joke of the year. If Salazar… well if he is who he says he is, then there was no way that she was obeying him. According to history, Salazar Slytherin despised muggles and was clearly a psychopath. Who would on his right mind keep a monster in their school to eradicate muggle-borns?

Standing up, she marched back to her tree and sat back down with her arms crossed around her chest.

"You can glare all you want. In a few hours we will be leaving again and I won't be waiting for you to catch up." He told her, surprising her with his soft tone.

She blinked and took a deep breath. Right now, it didn't matter if he was Salazar Slytherin or not. What mattered was that he saved her life and despite not trusting her, he seemed to be taking her to Hogwarts.

Biting down on her lower lip, Hermione found herself closing her eyes. For now, she had no choice but to place just a little bit of trust in him.

It didn't feel like she slept much. In fact she felt like she only managed to sleep for five minutes. Her feet were aching and her head felt like it was wrapped in a plastic bag. With a groan, she watched as he walked confidently a few feet ahead from her. It was as if he knew the way through these woods like the palm of his hand.

They had been walking for hours or at least it seemed like it. She couldn't really tell. She had to fight the urge to ask him where they were going or how long it would take for the next break. She felt tired beyond limits and it was only her pride that kept her from throwing herself onto the ground and throw a tantrum.

With a groan, Hermione realized that she needed the loo quite desperately. She bit her lip and looked around, "Uhm… excuse me?" she called out and watched as the man stopped and turned around to face her; a curious expression plastered all over his face, "I need to go?" she told him.

He frowned as he looked at her, "Go where?" he asked and then he finally noticed her discomfort. She was pressing her legs together and clutching to her belly and understanding came to him at once, "Okay, I'll wait." He said simply and watched her go quite a distance. He snorted at this, did she think he would go and spy on her?

Hermione kept walking until she felt like she was safe from being seen. As she hid behind a bush, she couldn't quite shake the awkward feeling that Salazar Slytherin knew what she was up to. Growling and feeling completely miserable, she squatted down and tried to pee as slowly and soundless as possible.

When she made her way back to him, she spotted him leaning against a tree with his arms crossed waiting for her. Her cheeks reddened and she cursed inwardly as he shot her a smirk.

"Don't tell me that was the first time in the wilderness?" he asked. He thought her to be quite strange. Most women were used to this, unless she was some princess that he was not aware of.

She threw him an irritated glance and walked past him, holding her head high and was resolute on ignoring him.

* * *

As the two of them left the tall trees behind him, Hermione's eyes widened. Civilization at last! The sun was already setting and she thanked Merlin that she didn't have to spend the night in the woods with him. She shot him a sideway glance and noticed that he did look somewhat weary. Humpf. So he was not all tough after all.

During their walk together, she had been surprised to find that he did not bomb her with questions as to where she really came from or who she truly was. He simply walked in absolute silence, his gaze always locked ahead as though he was lost in thought and it was his feet that carried him automatically.

She found herself growing extremely curious about him. What were the odds of going back in time and finding herself together with Salazar Slytherin himself? She knew that even though he had been nothing but nice to her, he was dangerous.

Sure, he had saved her life back at the inn but he had taken a man's life doing so.

Snapping back to reality, Hermione looked ahead and stared at the tall woodened gates that protected the city away from her curious eyes. She spotted a man clad in dirty clothes, a tall spear in his hand and she figured that he was a guard of some sorts. A gatekeeper, perhaps?

She heard Salazar and the man exchange words but she could not understand anything at all. The gatekeeper shot Hermione a curious look and she felt naked under his stare forcing her to wrap her cloak around her.

As the gates opened before her, Salazar eyed her and found the young woman staring in awe at her surroundings making him frown slightly. Everything seemed to be incredibly new to her. She seemed surprised at the buildings, at the women around them, eyeing their dresses in sheer wonder.

Then he blinked when she gagged and covered her nose with her fingers. Yes, muggle cities absolutely stank. Watching her closely, he assumed she was a high noble pureblood witch that had never been out of her village before. Was she lost? Had she left her village in order to go to Hogwarts? He shook his head, even if it was the case, it didn't explain her odd clothing or the lack of knowledge of the common tongue. Latin was widely known amongst wizards and witches but it was a language that was not used nowadays.

They soon arrived to what seemed to be some sort of inn.

Salazar waited for Hermione to catch up and then looked at the fat man behind the counter, "One room, have a maidservant prepare us a bath and…" he shot Hermione's clothing a look and then looked back at the man, "Bring her one of your best dresses and shoes."

Taking the single key from the man, Salazar began climbing the stairs and Hermione was quickly on his tail.

"Where are we?" she asked, speaking for the first time in hours.

"It doesn't matter where we are." He replied as he came to stand before a door, opening it and waiting for her to walk inside.

She eyed him suspiciously and he only smirked at her, "I'm not sharing a room with you." She said and shot him a half-glare.

He arched a brow, "Oh? Then you can pay for your own room." He said and walked inside, closing the door on her face.

Hermione could only gape at the closed door.


	3. Chapter 3

**101cecilia101**** – ****I wish I could update every week but my life is pretty chaotic right now and I don't want to rush this story and ruin it! But I promise I will try to do it more frequently. **

**KitChi**** – ****OMG Welcome to Hermione X Salazar fandom! Haha yes, I read a few before attempting to start my own and I am simply addicted and wish that there were more out there. At least completed ones!**

**Lyane de Rivesen**** – ****Thank you for reviewing darling! I hope you will enjoy this new chapter! :3**

**A big thank you to all of the guests out there that have reviewed! **

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Chapter III

* * *

Hermione quickly realized that arguing with the only person that knew how things worked around here was not the smartest thing to do. This wasn't the first time she would have to share a room and that was not what had her so on edge. It was because of who he claimed to be. The only things she knew about him weren't exactly working in his favour.

Slowly, she moved her hand to the door's handle and was somewhat surprised when it was unlocked. The bushy-haired witch walked through the door and closed it gently behind her. She noticed that he had his back turned on her and seemed to be looking for something in that worn out bag of his. She coughed lightly as to alert him to the fact that she was right there but he did not bother to acknowledge her.

Salazar took a small leather pouch from the bag and turned around, his eyes finally meeting hers, "You will stay here," he told her and drew his brows together as he waited for a reply - one that would tell him that she would be a good girl and comply with his wishes.

Quickly remembering that she was determined on avoiding arguing with the man, she gave him a small nod, not trusting herself to speak just yet. He seemed pleased with her reply and then left the room. She wondered if he had some business to take care of. Perhaps, he was chasing yet another dangerous wizard? She shivered and seriously hoped not. She suddenly realized that with him gone, she felt exposed and completely defenseless. What if some freak came into her room intending on attacking her? She didn't really feel like having a second encounter with a cruciatus curse.

There was a sudden loud knock on the door which caused the young witch to jump. She looked around frantically, trying to find something to try and defend herself with when a soft female voice spoke from behind the door. She clearly did not understand a word but she figured it was probably just a servant. With a deep breath, the Gryffindor head-girl opened the door and looked at the two women standing in the corridor. Both women carried buckets with steaming hot water in them.

She quickly scurried away, opening the door further to let them inside. The women walked inside and towards the tiny room where they emptied the buckets into the tub. One woman moved a hand into the water and said something to Hermione but she simply just stared at them and shook her head, "I'm terribly sorry. I don't understand." She said and watched as confusion etched into the maid's faces.

The women were quick to realize that she was a foreign and simply exited the room to come back a couple more times, filling in the tub completely. When their task was done, another woman came into the room and approached Hermione, moving a beautiful box into her hands, "Dress." She spoke in Latin and Hermione's eyes widened.

"D-dress?" Hermione asked, her eyes watering up as she realized that this was Salazar's doing. The man really had been nothing but nice to her and now every ounce of guilt spread through her being at her own thoughts of suspicion and cautious when it came to him.

"Thank you." She said and watched as the women shut the door and left.

She opened the box and looked down at the dress in awe. She had seen the other women wear these types of dresses and the thought of having to dress like one of them never crossed her mind. She was thankful for the dress, really. However, she was not too fond of wearing it. She knew that she would have to wear it though. She needed to fit in and drawing too much attention to herself was dangerous.

The dress's colour was a beautiful pale blue made of coarse cotton. It was simple in style; there were buttons down the front of the dress, almost to the waist, so one could get in and out of it easily.A heavy sigh escaped her and she turned towards the tub before the water turned cold.

She looked around closely and found a bar of white soap. She shivered at the thought that she would have to wash her hair with it. If only she had her wand.

Hermione could feel tears come to her eyes as she got in the tub. She wanted to go home. Oh god, never before she had been this homesick. Not even in her first year in Hogwarts. Not even when she was camping out with Harry, hiding away from death eaters while they hunted for Horcruxes. She felt like an eight-year old as a sob rocked her body.

_Home. I want to go home! _

* * *

When Salazar did not return, Hermione was growing restless. Staying locked inside a tiny room was not improving her mood the slightest. She felt mentally and physically tired beyond limits. She kept trying to find the missing piece for the puzzle she had in her hands. How on Merlin's beard was the room of requirement able to send her to the past? She dismissed her previous idea of a portkey. Portkeys did not send people back in time. Period.

Then _how?_

More important, _why?_

The young witch took a deep breath and decided that she would venture a little into town. She might as well take a good look around. It didn't take her long to find her way out of the inn. She took her time, taking in her surroundings.

She noticed the staring and that some of the locals were scowling at her. She made a mental note that these people were probably suspicious and not so friendly towards outsiders. And since it was a small town, everyone probably knew everyone. Taking her mind off the staring folk she focused on the buildings. Fences and gates were stained with age. She then gasped as two children ran past her barefoot and she cringed inwardly. These streets were probably filled with bacteria and disease and children ran barefoot through the dirt filled roads.

Suddenly she felt a hand upon her arm. She spun, her eyes wide in surprise to find Salazar glaring down at her. He snarled something at her and began dragging her back with him towards the inn. She shook herself free.

"Let go!" she started in English. She crossed her arms around her chest, eyeing him defiantly, "I was merely looking around." She added this time in Latin but he was still glaring furiously at her.

When Salazar had seen her walk past and down the street, he nearly choked on his own saliva.

News of her arrival had probably been spread within the minute of her coming through the town's gate. A foreign woman had been wearing the strangest clothing, in the company of a strange man.

"You are making yourself far too noticeable," he hissed angrily, "What do you think you are doing? Having a look around? You think this is a visiting trip? You have no idea of what is out there-"

"Then why don't you tell me? Huh? Enlighten me oh, great Salazar Slytherin!" she snapped but then realized she had gone too far as he suddenly reached for her. "Hey! Let go, get—p-put me down! HEY!"

"Are you mad?!" he shouted as he shook her and then without warning he had his arms about her waist, lifted her off the floor and started carrying back to the inn. The little wench was still protesting when he put her down and shoved her through the door. He turned to look at her and found her glaring at him in fury. He snorted and couldn't believe what he had done to deserve this kind of punishment. The young woman was obvious delusional.

"I was simply looking around!" she retorted, wondering why he was so upset.

"I told you to stay in the room." He said and ran a hand through his now clean blonde-hair. He took a deep breath and then took a seat, "It is not safe out there. Do you understand? Not for our kind."

"Like what?" she asked, taking the seat next to him, wishing to know what was so dangerous out there, "Is it a dark wizard?"

His chuckle surprised her since she could not tell what was so funny about a dark wizard. She found amusement in his eyes as he looked right back at her. The corner of his lips curved upwards and she found herself thinking that he had a handsome kind smile. It was a sight that she had never thought to associate with Salazar Slytherin.

"A dark wizard is the least of our worries, little girl."

* * *

Patches of dark grey clouds drifted across the horizon – a grim sign of the rain that was certain to follow. A lone majestic raven flew lazily above the dark woods. The bird suddenly changed speed and swooped quickly as it reached the thick stands of trees. It flew as straight as possible, making its way unerringly to one of the many available branches. Settling there, the raven folded its wings rather magnificently; its round shiny eyes glued intently on the cloaked man below.

The bird opened its beak and emitted a loud squawk, the screeching note jarring in the hushed silence of the grove. Very slowly, the cloaked man looked up at the bird sitting so still above him in the tree.

"Speak," the man's voice was low and rough but the bird seemed to comprehend the simple command. The bird suddenly abandoned the comfort of the tree branch and with a puff of a dark smoke; the bird was no more, giving place to a tall dark-haired man.

"What? No hello? You are getting ruder by the day," the man spoke playfully but at the same time he carried a defensive posture, almost as if he feared that the other man would pounce at him. He slowly circled the cloaked man and smirked, "I think your _friends_ will be happy with our prey this time."

"They are no friends of mine," the cloaked man replied almost robotically, he grew weary of telling this fact over and over again. They were his _employers_, not friends.

"So you keep saying."

"Out with it. I have far better things to do than associate with the likes of you."

"Ah, yes." The animagus smirked, "Understandable, since the companies you prefer nowadays are filthy muggles."

The cloaked man whirled around and as he did so, the hood that shielded his features fell back and allowed the animagus to have a look at the man's face for the first time in years since they started doing business together. His eyes widened slightly but he quickly masked away his surprise. The cloaked man's facial skin was badly burnt; he had no eyebrows and he was missing an eye. The eye socket was dark and the animagus would have cringed if he had not heard the rumors. He knew the story behind the sight before him – everyone did.

The animagus could not inspect the other man's wounds any further as he pulled the hood back on, hiding behind the shadows once more.

"Right…" the dark-haired man started, "I thought you and your friends should know that Salazar Slytherin himself is in town." He was not disappointed when a small but heavy leather pouch was thrown at him. He caught it effortlessly and did not bother to count the gold that was within.

The cloaked man quickly turned his back on his informant and walked towards the heart of the forest.

"Oh, silly me! There is something else you should know."

The cloaked man came to a halt but did not turn around. He waited.

"A woman's with him," he started, "A witch by the looks of it. But I never heard of her. I asked around, it seems no one else has heard of her either,"

When the animagus did not add anything further, he walked forward.

This was the moment he had been waiting for. He did not know what Salazar Slytherin was doing outside the protection of his precious castle but it mattered not. This was the opportunity of a lifetime. And he would take it.

Oh yes, he would.

If killing Salazar Slytherin was the only way to get to _him_. Then so be it.

* * *

Hermione lay in bed and shifted uncomfortably for the one hundredth time, trying as hard as not to touch him who was also lying right next to her with his back turned on her. With a sideways glance, she realized that he seemed to be sleeping peacefully. _Good for him_, she thought bitterly as she could not find the right position. Truth was she simply couldn't fall asleep knowing that he was right there. This felt wrong on so many levels. For one, she had been petrified on her second year by the damned beast he set loose in the castle. Secondly, his mindset about muggle-borns was one of the things that fueled Tom Riddle psychopath ways.

Despite all 'buts' and 'ifs' going around in the center of her mind, it was becoming clear that Hermione would never go back again. Unless, people in this time had some sort of spell that threw people forward in time, she was going to be forever confined to this time until the day she died. The prospect sent an ill shiver down the length of her spine and unbidden tears filled her eyes.

Salazar's eyes were closed but he too was having trouble falling asleep. He was perfectly aware of the young witch lying next to him and he was a man – a man that did not share a bed with the opposite sex in weeks, months even. He found himself thinking about her. She was with no doubt a mystery to him. She couldn't or wouldn't tell him who she truly was or where she hailed from but he could tell she was in trouble. There was a 'lost' vibe coming from the girl and she certainly did not belong. She did not behave like the other women he met, and the clothes she had been wearing when he first met her was just another indicator. And there was the language barrier.

His muscles suddenly tensed when he felt something warm against his back and he slowly looked over his shoulder to see the young witch's forehead pressed against him. He found the sight endearing as he could finally _see_ her. In her sleep, she was not guarded against him. In her sleep, she was finally not afraid of him.

Yes, because he did notice how she often sneaked worried glances towards him as though she was scared that he would suddenly attack her.

With a heavy sigh, Salazar turned his head back and allowed himself to relax. He closed his eyes and his breathing evened out, slowly but surely dozing off.

* * *

The sound of horses so late in the night was enough to make the town's people curious. The shy ones preferred to watch from the safety of their homes by the windows. A red-haired young girl watched in fascination as the riders wore identical clothing; their faces were covered by large hoods which only added to her growing curiosity.

"Who are they papa?" the girl asked as she reached for her father's hand.

He squeezed it gently as he too stared at the riders, "Hunters, my little bear. Come, it is best if we stay away from the window." He said and suddenly felt worry course through him as he watched the men stop in front of old Tom's Inn.

"Hunters?" The girl asked as she followed her father, disappointed that she could not keep watching, "What are they hunting?"

"Bad, bad people," her father replied and then added the one word every children was scared of, "Witches."

* * *

The sound of an explosion echoed into the silent room, waking up its occupants immediately. She bolted upright, her heart raced so violently against her ribcage that for a moment she thought it would burst right out of her chest. Her eyes stopped on the several cloaked figures that invaded their room and she knew that they weren't there to discuss the weather or to ask for directions. She did not fail notice that these men were carrying knifes and swords. One of them even had an enormous axe.

_What the bloody hell? Muggles?!_

Salazar was up and ready. He had his wand pointed at them and he looked furious. How stupid of him to lower his guard! He had never allowed himself to be trapped in this manner, especially by muggles. His eyes narrowed dangerously when a tall cloaked man pushed the muggles aside and he instantly knew that this man was not a muggle. The wand pointed right back at him spoke volumes.

"So the rumors are true," Salazar spoke, his wand steady. He was well aware that the young witch was vulnerable without her own wand, he wondered if she was skilled at all when it came to dueling.

"The rumors are true," the cloaked man repeated and Salazar immediately recognized his voice. He had been told stories about a few wizards that willingly joined forces with muggles in hunting down witches and wizards. At the time he found it hard to believe that their own kin would betray them in such fashion but now he knew the rumors to be true and he fully understood them.

Salazar snorted and he looked over at Hermione who looked completely at loss of what to do. Not only she did not understand their situation but she could not understand a word that was being said. He locked his gaze with hers for a brief moment and then he discreetly looked down at his waist holster and he almost breathed out in relief when realization lit her features.

"And how did you find me?" Salazar asked, trying to buy them some time. He could see that the muggles were growing restless.

"I have my ways."

"I see that you are still a man of few words, Jonathan." Salazar added almost tauntingly.

The first muggle growled and he ran towards them, a knife ready in his hand. Hermione quickly rolled off the bed, she reached for her own wand and a jolt of electricity ran up her arm as she could feel its magic greeting her back. Salazar waved his wand and she realized that he was gifted in non-verbal spells. The muggle was thrown back colliding with a few of his comrades and then chaos ensued.

The wizard also known as Jonathan, shot spell after spell but Salazar was able to deflect every single one of them. A muggle got too close to him and instead of using magic; he kicked the man hard enough to send him to the ground. And then for a moment he forgot to breathe as Jonathan now aimed at Hermione. But nothing prepared him for what happened next.

The young witch not only deflected it with ease but she cast one spell of her own that he had never heard before. Jonathan was frozen like a statue and the muggles now receded, feeling that it was not wise to engage in a fight without their precious wizard to aid them.

"Come!" Salazar shouted and even though it was not Latin, it didn't take a genius to know what he meant. She followed him to the window and she looked down as he jumped. It was a three-floor building! She was sure that he had used some spell to make him land perfectly or to slow down his fall but she didn't know any that could aid her to do the same feat.

Salazar looked upwards and shot a spell at her that made her feel lighter as though she weighted nothing and then she jumped and for a moment she felt like she could truly fly. As she came down, he moved his hands to her waist and pulled her close. What surprised her was the wide grin on his face.

"Run, we are being hunted!"

She blinked at him, her heart was still racing and her mind was trying to process all that was happening but she knew one thing.

Salazar appeared to be having the time of his life.

* * *

**Author's note: I am getting so many reviews and so many followers that this truly warms my heart. I am sorry if the ambush scene at their inn's room seems a bit messy, I am still looking for a beta reader to help me out by the way. Please review. I am a bit nervous about this chapter and your input truly means the world to me. Thank you as always for reading!**

**Naeriel.**

**Ps. We will read a bit about the other founders on the next chappie! I already started writing it so... reviews motivate me! Teehe xxx.**


	4. Chapter 4

CitySleep – Thank you dear. I hope you enjoy this new chapter.

Tsukuyomu – Yes! Yes and YES! I would love you to help me out! I just don't know how this whole beta reader thing works? LOL. I will drop you a PM, dearie. I am glad you are enjoying the story! It makes my heart go all over the place.

Moi – Thank you so much for reviewing! Your reviews are very refreshing to read. I love your thoughts and inputs and they actually motivate me to write more and more.

KitChi – Ahhh you make me blush. At first I thought I should write a jerk Salazar Slytherin but as I started to write my Salazar came out like that. LOL I am glad you approve though! PS: I also love Draco x Hermione! We should totally be dramione buddies J

* * *

Chapter **IV**

* * *

_ "__Run, we are being hunted!" _

Hermione blinked once and then again. The young witch simply could not share the same enthusiasm that the man in front of her was experiencing. Being hunted was not something to be excited about. The mere thought of being hunted almost made her run screaming like a banshee. But she held herself together because being hunted was unfortunately something that she had experienced before. And that was why she managed to still her emotions and was able to think coherently.

"This is not funny!" she hissed at him as she watched him take one of the horses, "Being hunted is not funny!"

"I heard you the first time," he replied and even though she could not see his face, she was sure that he had rolled his eyes at her.

Her mind went back to what had happened just moments before. Muggles hunting down witches was not unheard of. However, she had never imagined that they had organized groups for that effect; especially groups led by a wizard. Hermione looked up and saw that Salazar had climbed in the saddle; he walked the horse over to her and was now holding his hand out for her so she could climb up behind him.

Her arms went around his waist and she looked at the Inn's main door. She gasped slightly when the muggles came out running, shouting and protesting but she could not understand anything that came out of their mouths. She didn't need to. They were beyond angry, fury twisted their faces as they tried to chase them down but their stolen horse was now going at full speed, leaving them behind.

She could feel his chest tremble and she realized that Salazar was roaring with laughter.

"You are mad!" she added in English and shook her head. A ghost of a smile flickered on her lips as he looked at her over his shoulder. The mischievous gleam in his eyes made her almost forget to breathe.

"You are skilled with a wand," he spoke and sounded genuinely surprised.

She didn't know whether she should feel offended or flattered but in the end she decided to take it as a compliment and for the first time she grinned at him. However, her grin suddenly faltered when a yellow flash of light went past her, missing her by mere inches.

Salazar cursed under his breath, realizing that they had run right into a trap. He should have seen it coming. It was Jonathan he was dealing with after all. He tried to steer the horse to the best of his abilities but there were too many of them.

From the corner of his eyes he watched the witch raise her wand, "Protego!"

A bright blue transparent shield suddenly appeared and his eyes widened slightly when the spells that were meant to hit them were rebound directly off back towards its caster. He suddenly held the witch in high regard as it was not everyone that could maintain such a shield much less make the spells rebound or ricochet off in other directions. He wondered where she learned her magic and thoughts of who she truly was started to invade his mind but he forced them away as now was not the time.

Hermione noticed that this time there were no muggles chasing them down and she couldn't for the life of her understand why they were being chased down by a mob of angry wizards. Were they working together? Since when did wizards work for muggles… or was it the other way around? Was this what Salazar meant? When there were things far worse than a dark wizard?

A loud cry escaped from her lips as she was violently thrown of her horse. She rolled on the unleveled ground, groaning as she hit her head on one of the rocks. She barely had time to register the pain as she frantically looked around. She spotted their horse on the ground, _dead_. A cold shiver licked her spine as these wizards were not afraid to use the killing curse. She tried to sit up and gasped in pain, probably a broken rib.

Her eyes stopped on her companion and she saw him on his knees. He struggled to stand but it was no use, he was surrounded. The wizards all but one had dismounted their horses and circled the kneeling man. None spared her a look, probably not deigning her worthy of their time. After all, she was simply Hermione Granger. What was she in comparison to one of the founders of Hogwarts? A nobody.

"Do not be foolish." One of the wizards spoke, his wand poking Salazar's throat, "Drop it."

Salazar, however, did not seem quite keen in obeying. He was clutching to his wand so tightly, that his knuckles turned white. Hermione did the same. Letting Salazar Slytherin die would mean the death of her. And then suddenly, a thought coursed through her that made her sick to the core.

All of this was her fault.

If Salazar had not saved her from that crazed wizard and had not insisted to bring her along, none of this would have happened. By staying with him, she had altered the course of history beyond repair.

"Do it." Salazar replied, "I dare you." His lips twitched upwards into a smirk, his blue eyes fiercely locked with the man that had his wand pointed at him, "You have never taken a life before, have you? Do not tell me you are a trainee. What? Is this your first hunt?" he taunted and he knew he hit the mark. The man's hand was shaking and he looked around for support from his comrades.

"Do not pay heed to his words," the man still mounted on his horse spoke and Salazar's lips broke into a smile.

"Jonathan. How nice of you to join us. You were hit pretty bad back there, are you alright mate?"

Everyone seemed pretty uncomfortable as they all had their wands ready. They knew who this man was. He was the heir of Slytherin. Murdering him meant repercussions would be in order. And no one wanted to be hunted down by the man's family or worse by the man's friends. They heard of the quartet fearsome stories and how together they could accomplish all kinds of terrible magic.

Hermione did not understand what was being said but she knew that these men were not here to chat and make friends. She was certain of one thing though; they should not have ignored her. Swallowing down a cry of pain she quickly got to her feet. A few of the men turned around, their wands ready to shoot her down but she deflected their spells with a simple motion of her wand.

Salazar took advantage of the much appreciated distraction and was able to break the wand that had been poking his neck. The man gasped in horror at his broken wand and fell to the ground clutching tightly to it as though his life depended on it. Salazar's whole playful demeanor disappeared and a ferocious expression was now in place. He pointed his wand at the wallowing man and a flash of green illuminated the forest.

Her heart was racing and her breath was rough and despite of the tiniest movement causing her great pain, she rushed towards the blond-haired man and she hugged him tightly. Salazar's eyes widened at the gesture and he felt a strong yank at his person. He could only watch as Jonathan's own killing curse came at him in slow motion before the scene before him changed completely.

Salazar fell on his back with a bushy-haired witch on top of him. She took deep breaths and shook violently against him. He looked around in astonishment as they were no longer in the same woods. In fact he had no idea where they were at.

"What did you do?" he asked, lifting her chin to make her look at him.

"Did you really have to kill that man?"

The question caught him off guard, surprise etched in his features. "You do realize they were there to kill us." He replied, lying on the grass completely and closing his eyes. "I do not know what you have done but you ought to teach me."

Still straddling him, Hermione shook her head, "Not until you have taken me to Hogwarts."

Salazar opened one eye and he smirked, "You have been there before haven't you?"

Her eyes widened slightly and she opened her mouth to contradict him but his index finger found her lips, "I do not appreciate being lied to. I will not press you for answers… for now." He added and closed his eye again, "Now allow me… just a few moments of rest."

She snorted in disbelief and then looked down at him. She felt her cheeks grow hot at the position she was in and slowly and discreetly tried to remove herself away from him. As she rolled away to lie next to him she found herself looking at the locket around his neck.

Hermione quickly looked away as memories came to her. She could see Harry and Ron, both taking turns to hold the damned thing. She remembered the arguments and how vile the object had become when turned into a Horcrux. She closed her eyes shut and tried to push the memories away and away they went only to be replaced with fresh recent ones. The look on Salazar's face when he took that man's life had scared her. He had looked like a complete different person then. It was like the man wore different masks at all times and she could not tell which was the real him.

As she tried to turn into a comfortable position, she let out a cry of pain. She felt warm arms come around her and she fought the urge to break free and run for her life. She knew she was being silly, that so far he had never did anything threatening or showed ill intentions towards her but the fact that he took a man's life out so easily did not sit well with her. She tensed when he began chanting something in a language entirely different from the one he spoke with the other men. It sounded gentle and beautiful and she slowly felt the pain subside. She wanted to ask what he was doing to her but she found her unable to interrupt. She felt that it was not right to.

She could feel her eyelids grow heavier by the second and just before they closed against her will she realized that she had in fact felt this type of magic before.

It was the same magic that protected her and her friends.

It was_ Hogwarts_ magic.

_His magic is beautiful, _she thought before she turned her back on the world and fell into a painless and peaceful sleep.

* * *

_This sucks, this sucks, this sucks_, Rowena chanted over and over in her head, anything to distract herself from the disgusting, suspiciously warm water sloshing around in her boots. She decided then and there that she was going to kill Godric Gryffindor once she got out of here. What the hell did the little turd think he had been doing, sending her here of all places to look for "abnormal things." Everything Rowena had seen so far had been abnormal! She was cold, tired, and filthy and it didn't help that she now had no earthly idea where the hell they were.

Godric had insisted that he felt something or _someone_ within the forest but she thought him to be slightly paranoid. It was called the Forbidden Forest for a reason. It wasn't like a group of wizards suddenly decided to have a tea party on the most dangerous forest in Britain. She sighed, this sudden paranoia only happened whenever Salazar was not around. When Salazar left on his little endeavors Godric would grow restless much like a father waited for his child to return home before curfew time.

"I want to go home," Helga suddenly whined, sounding ten years younger than she really was.

"Oh be quiet," Rowena snapped, focusing her wand higher so it could illuminate a much larger area, "It is not like I am having any more fun than you are."

"Nor I," added the man from the front of the line, his long dark coat stained and clotted with all sorts of gross-looking stuff.

"What are we even looking for down here?" Helga whined again, "Why can we not go back to the castle and just say that we did not find anything!?"

Frederic stopped and whirled around fixing the blonde-haired female with a bestial glare that made her stop dead in her tracks, a grumpy Rowena almost bumping against her back.

"Would you kindly shut up?" Frederic asked calmly, though the annoyed rumble that Rowena could notice in the man's tone told he was anything but calm.

"Hey," Rowena intervened and walked beside Helga, glaring at the man in front of her, "Leave her alone,"

Frederic brought his hands up, "Aye, as my lady wishes,"

Rowena rolled her eyes and she started walking again, "Godric would not send us all the way here if he didn't think something or someone was in the forest. When has that man's instincts ever failed us?" she asked and when neither Helga nor Frederic replied she knew that they were silently agreeing with her.

The three companions came to a halt at the same time when a loud, echoing moan suddenly filled the air around them. They immediately tensed and Helga who had been the only one with her wand hidden quickly brought it out, ready to face whatever was out there. The moan came again, louder this time. Both Rowena and Frederic shone their wands around wildly, trying to pinpoint the source.

"Is it just me or that sounded like a person?" Frederic asked what Rowena had been thinking.

"Hello!?" Helga suddenly called before Rowena could tell her to keep quiet, "Is anyone out there?"

"This way!" Frederic cried, rushing past Rowena and ran forward towards the tall menacing looking trees.

"Fred wait!" Rowena snapped as Helga ran past her in pursuit of her friend, "Something is not right! Wait!"

With a loud groan, the dark-haired woman finally caught up with her companions. When she fell besides them, she almost let her wand slip right through right through her fingers as she contemplated the sight before her.

_Centaurs. _

A garden of corpses stretched on and on into the distance, as far as the eye could see. A sea of lifeless eyes haunted the three friends and it was only when another moan echoed into the night's cold air that they were brought back from their initial shock.

Helga's face was as white as a ghost as she approached the poor suffering creature. She knelt next to him with tears quickly welling up in her eyes, "What is g-g-going on?" she asked, her voice breaking at the same time as her heart did. She stretched a trembling hand and touched the creature's torso, "It is dying…"

The centaur let out another cry that froze the blood in Rowena's veins.

"Something is not right…" she knelt next to Helga and gently pointed her wand at the centaur, "Salvabo Vitae, Salvabo dolore," she whispered and watched as the color of gold and silver surrounded the dying creature, "Salvabo Vitae, Salvabo dolore…"

Frederic walked carefully around the dead bodies, frowning when he could not find any wounds that could possibly explain their deaths. He could hear Rowena try a few healing spells and turned his attention back on them, "Try to make it speak." He said as he approached them.

Helga looked down and her eyes met the centaur's gaze. She could see the pain etched in them and she fought the urge to sob uncontrollably. She could not stand to see others in pain. "What happened?" she asked, hoping the centaur could give them a clue of what had transpired.

Rowena drew her brows together in sheer concentration. Why weren't the spells working? She tried to search for the source of whatever was afflicting this being and then when she finally encountered, she fell on her behind and a scream escaped her lips.

"Rowena!" Helga looked down at her friend in shock. Frederic knelt next to the dark-haired witch and he shook her by the shoulders when she wouldn't stop screaming.

He shook her harder and suddenly felt the hair of the back of his neck stand on end. Something indeed was not right. Groaning, he picked the screaming witch and hoisted her up, threw her over his shoulder knocking the air of her lungs. Rowena ceased her screaming but was oddly quiet and did not even move.

Helga stole glances between her friends and the dying centaur, "We should go…"

"Quick." Frederic added, "We need to get her back in the castle."

He marched on, leading the way trying to ignore a sobbing Helga following close behind. He had more concerning matters than consoling the crying witch at the moment; - like the frightening feeling of being watched.

* * *

"So wizards have associated themselves with muggles? But why?" she asked as they walked side by side. They had been walking for a few hours and her legs were starting to protest. She wondered how far she had apparated them as there was no signs of nearby civilization.

Salazar glanced at the curious witch next to him, "Why not? Most of the wizards that choose to work for muggles are wanted by law," he explained simply, thinking that it was pretty obvious but even if she was not aware of this then it only added more fuel to his theory that she was not from around here; - as in, this place or even this _time_. Of course he would not voice his suspicions, not right now anyway.

She bit the inside of her cheek as she took in his words. She supposed it made sense. If they were wanted by law, then allying forces with hunting-witches muggles seemed to be logical thing to do.

"And what do you mean with law?" the question was out before she could stop herself. She was supposed to not attract too much attention to her lack of knowledge of this world. _Good job, Hermione!_ She chastised herself.

He offered her a _knowing_ smile and she tried to keep her face free from any expression that might give away her uneasiness. Instead of taking advantage of the situation and trying to get any answers from her, Salazar let a loud sigh escape and slowly moved his hands behind the back of his head, lacing his fingers together.

"You really know nothing," he said in slight disbelief, wondering just how different things were from where she was from, "There is but one guild that dictates the law for witches and wizards," he started, knowing he had her full attention now. Somehow, he took great pleasure in knowing that she was keen to learn and an avid listener. She had inched herself closer to him and was looking at him with an eagerness that he often saw in his student's faces back in Hogwarts. He suddenly missed home.

"A guild?" she enquired curiously, her tone was begging him to continue.

"Aye, little girl."

"Hermione." She corrected him for the fifth time that day.

A smirk adorned his lips, "Yes, _Hermione._" Her name rolled off his tongue quite nicely, "Merlin's order, it is called," he added and watched as her eyes widened in recognition. So she did hear of _them_, then. And that day when they met, she definitely recognized his name too.

Merlin's order! She had only read it in books and not once a guild with the same name was mentioned. Or did everything she read concerning the Merlin's order was based in this guild that Salazar spoke of? She was suddenly aware that he was looking at her intently, probably trying to read her from her reaction so she mustered her best smile and tried to look like her mind was not being loaded with question after question that she desperately wanted answers to.

She suddenly realized that Salazar had stopped. She turned to look at him, giving him a questioning look.

He clutched a hand to his chest and suddenly stumbled forward. She immediately shot her arm towards him, stopping him from falling face down. She looked up at him in worry as his face contorted in pain.

"S-salazar?"

"I need… home… something is not right." He gritted his teeth together and gently pushed her away when he felt that he had the strength to stand on his own again.

"W-what do you mean?" she asked, her voice was filled with so much concern for him that it warmed his heart.

He tried to mask away the pain but it was still visible in his eyes, "It's nothing little one. It's just… I'm needed at home."

"Where is home?" she suddenly asked and could not help herself from visibly shaking. Was he going to abandon her? She had nowhere to go. She didn't know anyone but him! He was all she had!

"Hogwarts, Hermione." He answered and suddenly wrapped an arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer to him, "Do you not wish to see it again?" he asked, sounding beyond tired but he tried to make his tone light and playful for her sake.

She looked up at him and all pretenses were gone. How long could she keep the truth away from him anyway? He was not stupid. He would find out sooner or later.

"I do." She replied and smiled a little, eyeing him still with obvious concern.

"Good. That is where we are heading. I do not suppose you can-"

"Apparate." She conceded the foreign word for him, "It's called apparate."

"Aye, _apparate_." He repeated the foreign word and tried to keep his mind from the pain that was afflicting him.

* * *

"Dark magic," Frederic replied flatly.

His words hung in the air for a few seconds before Godric finally found his voice, "Dark magic?" he hissed, straightening up and clenching his hand into a fist.

"It is the only explanation as to why she is acting that way," Frederic said, watching Godric carefully, as if afraid the dark-haired man was going to snap at any moment.

Godric shut his eyes tightly, eyelashes fluttering as if they alone were holding in the whirlwind of heart ache and hurt that churned within him, "It is naught but my fault alone," Godric Gryffindor uttered in a low, guttural voice, sounding completely unlike himself, "I have summoned Salazar. He feels too far away…"

"Godric…" Helga whispered, her heart aching for him as she started to walk towards him, "He will come. You know he will."

He abruptly turned his back to her, "We can only hope he gets here in time. Rowena will not last long."

His words cut through both Frederic and Helga's hearts as they still refused to believe that their friend was dying.


	5. Chapter 5

**Authors Note:** First I want to thank my dear beta **Tsukuyomu **for taking the time to read the chapter and edit it. You are the best! Truly.

**Moi:** I think I am in love with you and your long reviews. Seriously, they bring a smile to my face. The tiny bits that you catch on, the dress in particular, I didn't think anyone would really put much thought in it and when you mentioned I was dancing in my chair. I am trying to do my research and though it might not be perfect I appreciate and LOVE when you add your thoughts and your knowledge of Middle Ages really astounds me! So with that all said, yes I think I am in love with both you and my beta. Tihi.

**Themadamex**, thank you dear. I hope you enjoy more of the other founders in this chapter. We get to see a bit more of Helga in this one. And hopefully a lot more of Godric in the next one!

* * *

Merlin's Pants, Help Me!

Chapter V

* * *

After insisting that she Apparate them a few more times, Salazar and Hermione found themselves in the middle of a crowded square. Salazar cursed under his breath as he noticed that they had immediately attracted the attention of some of the locals. Pulling his hood over his head, he wrapped his arm around Hermione and began to force their way through the throng of people. "That was dangerous," he told her softly, feeling her body tremble in his arms as they continued walking.

Hermione nodded at him knowingly as she regarded their surroundings with a look of astonishment, finding that this time around being near civilization made her feel as if she were on a field trip. With Salazar by her side, she felt safe and more at ease with her surroundings which in turn allowed her to take a good look at the square and study the locals' behaviors and surroundings. She noticed with fascination as every now and then a loud voice would shout for the people to make way and the crowd would part so as to allow a young boy, pulling a cart laden with all types of items, past them, carting his load toward the numerous merchant stalls located in the square.

And this time around, she noted with relief, no one seemed to pay attention to her, her dress seeming to do the trick and allowing her to blend in perfectly with the rest of the crowd.

"This is amazing," she muttered under her breath and despite not being able to make sense of whatever it was that she was saying, Salazar could see how every little commonplace object and interaction fascinated her.

Hermione was blown away by it all. It was everything she had hoped for and much more.

There were all kinds of merchants about. She could see boxes upon boxes filled with all types of fruits and vegetables. She spotted a few women with their retainers standing behind them, carrying baskets as the women made their requests.

"Are there no markets where you hail from?" Salazar asked her curiously as he loosened his hold on her.

She looked up at him and smiled, "Of course there are!" she replied, "Only, they are a bit different."

"Oh?" Salazar's brow arched in curiosity, "How different?" he inquired, his tone curious.

The bushy-haired witch bit her lower lip as she considered how to reply to his question. "Well, for one…they are not conducted out in the open." She spoke and watched as a look of surprise slowly etched itself the man's features as he took in her words. "Everything is found in a big house…and, uhm…everything is divided into sections so that you know where everything is without having to spend much time looking for it."

"That is hard to imagine. How could every merchant's stall fit in a house, even if it is as large as you say, there is simply no way, all of this...," he paused to point at their surroundings, "could fit."

She shrugged her shoulders, "Well that is how it is done where I come from." She grinned up at him sheepishly.

Eventually, they crossed the main square where the market was being held and Hermione found more traders with stalls closer to the town's gate which would no doubt lead them to some road. Salazar suddenly turned to her, startling her. "I will meet you at the gate in a few minutes," he told her and shoved a few coins into her hands, "feel free to look around and purchase something."

She blinked and looked at him in worry. "Where are you going?" she asked, feeling uneasy to part with him even if it was just for a few moments.

"I am going to find us a horse, a map and some food," he smiled and ruffled her hair affectionately. "Go on. Don't wander too far and meet me at the gate." He repeated and saw the flash of annoyance in her eyes.

"Yes, I got it the first time. There is need to treat me like a child," she retorted, rolling her eyes at him and then, finally, she turned her back on him.

He remained stationary as she moved away from him, watching as Hermione hesitantly approached one of the merchant stalls. He shook his head but there was a faint smile adorning his features as he whirled around. He had nothing to worry about. She was a capable witch and could probably handle being alone for some time.

Hermione looked down at the coins in her hand and wondered just how much she had. She had no idea if what Salazar had given her was even enough to buy a piece of fruit, much less whatever object might catch her eye. One of the merchants saw the golden coins in her hand and began waving animatedly at her. He began showing her various expensive items and tried to talk to her, clearly trying to encourage her to buy something.

She smiled politely at the man and turned around, deciding that it would be best to keep the money instead. She had no intentions of separating herself from Salazar but she never knew what fate might have in store for her, so she thought it would be wise to keep it for a future emergency that might spring up sometime down the road. With a loud sigh, the witch walked towards the gate and waited patiently for her companion.

It didn't take too long for Salazar to find exactly where they were and as he looked down at the map in his hands, he noted that it would take them a week at most to return to Hogwarts. Just thinking about it filled his entire being with dread, for he could feel that something was amiss back at home. Never before had Godric summoned him with such a sense of urgency. He took a deep breath and thanked the man for the horse he had purchased for their journey, and turned with the horse in the gate's direction, leaving behind a bewildered man with too much gold in his hands, it would last his family a year's worth of comfort when it came to purchasing provisions and any other necessities they would need.

He found her by the gate, chewing on her lower lip, a habit that he had noticed she did quite often when she was lost in thought or uneasy when he tried getting her to reveal the truth of her origin's to him. When she turned her head and her gaze met his, he didn't miss the look of relief that washed over her and the happy smile that lit up her features.

"We should make haste," he spoke as he helped her mount the beautiful mare he had purchased, "we have a long ways to go," he told her. And guessing what she was about to ask him, he added, "It should take us a week at most."

She nodded and slightly tensed when he mounted behind her, moving his arms past her to reach for the reigns. "Something is still troubling you," she spoke quietly as the horse carried them through the gate and further down the dirt road.

"It is nothing." He replied shortly, the tone of his voice was final. He wished not to speak of it and since she had things of her own that she too did not wish to discuss with him, she accepted his answer and for a moment both relished in the comfortable silence that encompassed them both.

Salazar's thoughts went back to the urgent call from home and he wondered if everyone was safe. A sense of guilt clawed at his heart. Perhaps he had been reckless leaving in such a hurry. But had he not left when he did, then he would have not gotten there in time–he would have not been able to save Hermione. A frown took over him as he suddenly realized that he was growing attached to the girl.

_That will not do,_ he thought, and he could not help but be intrigued by this turn of events. What was so special about this young woman that compelled him to take her along? He felt that leaving her behind would be condemning her to an inevitable disaster.

_I am growing soft. Godric's ways are dangerously contagious._

* * *

When Godric announced that classes were to be resumed as though nothing had happened she was livid. How could they simply ignore that their friend was currently lying in bed, completely rejecting all healing spells or potions used on her. Rowena's condition was not improving the slightest bit; in fact it was only worsening as time went by. The clock was ticking and instead of spending as much of her time with her best-friend as she was able, she was stuck in a classroom filled with children eager to learn.

Every single one of them was completely oblivious to the fact that one of their professors was deadly ill–so unaware that there was a threat so close to them. It was right there, lurking in the forbidden forest. Helga could only hope that whatever or whoever was hiding in those dark woods would not dare venture closer to the castle grounds and put the children at risk.

She wondered if hiding the truth from them was the right thing to do. What if they exposed themselves to danger because they were not previously warned of what was happening? What then? She didn't even want to think about it.

A hand shot up in the air and Helga was forced to break away from her thoughts. Her gaze fell on a disheveled dark-haired boy–Arvain was his name–Slytherin's little protégé.

She still remembered the day the boy had first arrived to the castle, he had gotten himself into a fight with a much older student and Salazar had been the only one able to calm him down.

They soon discovered that the boy's parents had been experimenting and using dark magic on him, resulting in him having violent outbursts. When Salazar learned of what the boy had been through, he himself rode all the way to the boy's village and made sure that Arvain's parents had a little taste of what they had exposed their son to all those years.

"Yes?" Helga asked, smiling at the boy. She was not discouraged at all when he did not smile back. In fact, she could not remember a single time where she had seen him smiling before.

"If you do not mind my asking professor," Arvain started, trying to ignore the fact that everyone was staring at him, "There have been certain rumors around…" He paused and took notice of how all noise ceased and silence seemed to reign in, waiting for him to carry on and speak what was on everyone's mind, "It is just that…we could not help but notice that Professor Slytherin has been away for weeks…and now Professor Rowena is suddenly gone as well…"

Helga's face was a blank mask. She knew that being the youngest of the founders, people still saw her as the woman that hid behind Rowena, Godric and Salazar's shadow. Student's found it easier to approach her because she looked fragile and completely out of place–almost as if she didn't fit in with the other three and their greatness.

A flash of annoyance showed briefly but she quickly masked it by replacing it with a smile; a smile that people often mistook to be one filled with serenity and kindness.

In truth, she hated being considered the lesser of the four. She had never confided her insecurities with the others, and how could she? Rowena would only dismiss it as a temporary existential crisis. Godric had better things to worry about than ne concerned with the way she felt. He was constantly busy between family affairs and Hogwarts duties.

And then there was Salazar. He would look at her, his eyes filled with pity. He would try hiding it but she could see it clear as a day; he found her weak.

"Professor?"

"My apologies," Helga apologized and smiled again. "I am sure Godric did explain that both Rowena and Salazar were very busy with private manners."

"They are gone, aren't they?" Guinevere, from the house of Gryffindor asked. She had always been too smart for her own good.

"Of course not!" Helga replied and stood up. She circled her desk and looked at the student's concerned expressions. "Why would you think so? Have not both Professor Slytherin and Professor Godric left on several occasions? Have they not always returned to us?"

Most of the students nodded slowly and looked somewhat reassured by Helga's words. It was true, they had always returned.

However, Arvain was not entirely convinced that both Professors were away to take care of private matters. He had been out of bed the same night they brought Professor Rowena back into the castle. She had looked still like a statue, all colour drained from her features and her eyes had been so wide as though she had seen some kind of demon.

He fought back a shiver and resisted the urge to tell everyone what he had witnessed. He would wait a few days more and if the truth did not come forward then it would be his duty to let everyone know.

Helga dismissed the class earlier than planned. She didn't even remember what the lesson had consisted of. She was pretty sure that she spent most of the lesson lost in her own thoughts.

Once the classroom was cleared, she took a hold of her black cloak and left to check up on Rowena. As she walked down the hallway, she completely missed the small shadow following close behind.

When she arrived at Rowena's chambers, she was definitely surprised to find Godric sitting down next to the sleeping woman. At least she looked peaceful as she slept, but she could still not erase Rowena's terrible scream from her mind.

"How is she faring?" Helga asked and with the wave of her wand, a wooden chair materialized in front of her and she took it, folding the skirt of her dress as she sat down.

"Not well," came Godric's wearied reply. She knew he did not sleep, even before Rowena's whole ordeal with the dark curse; he had not been sleeping well. There were bags under his eyes and he looked ten years older than he really was. "I feel…powerless. I tried everything…"

Helga nodded slowly not doubting him. "Perhaps it is best we go back to the forest!" she noticed that he was about to interrupt her but she beat him to it, "No! Godric we need to figure out what is happening to her; sitting here and hoping for some miracle to save her is not going to work! The forest holds the answers and we both know it!"

She didn't sound upset. She sounded desperate.

"Did you know?" she whispered quietly, catching both herself and the man next to her in full surprise.

"Did I know that something so dark was hiding in the forest?" he asked, feeling completely appalled that she of all people was asking that one question, "No."

"Godric I–"

He stood up abruptly. "No," he hissed out as he turned his head to pin her with a glare, "there is no doubt Helga." Quietly he added, "The fault is mine and I shall live with it on my conscience."

Before she could say anything else, he was already gone.

Arvain bit his lower lip and clenched his hand tightly around his wand. What would Salazar do? Nodding to himself, he made up his mind. He was going to find out exactly what had hurt Professor Rowena. He was going to find out who or what was hiding in the forest.

* * *

They sat side by side. Salazar leaning back on his hands, his long legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles, Hermione sitting with her arms wrapped around her knees. The whole sky stretched out ahead of them. There was still just the barest hint of a very pale glow where it kissed the land–the last vestige of the sunset–but above was a great dark expanse filled with stars.

They had not conversed much with each other as they had travelled by horse. It was not as if things had been awkward between them but more like both were more preoccupied with their own thoughts. Whatever Salazar might have been pondering about Hermione had no idea, however, on her part she had been unable to ignore the effect that the man beside her had had on her; how aware she was of him as a physical presence. Ever since they had been on the road–two days now in counting–she could not help but break out into a smile whenever she caught his eye.

And then there was the way she felt instantly calmed and pleased by his presence. He was a handsome man. She had noticed it the first time she had met him.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she snuck a glance at him. As they sat together, saying nothing to each other, yet still all too aware of each other's presence, Hermione finally admitted to herself what she had been striving to avoid even considering for the last few days.

She was growing utterly attached to the man.

_That will not do,_ Hermione thought.

Salazar poured some water into the small wooden bowl he had pulled out and took a sip from it, handing it out to Hermione afterwards. She muttered a small "Thank you," still lost in thought and drank her turn, handing the bowl back to him once quenched. She felt his gaze fixed upon her person and lifted her head to look back at him.

"What–?"

The blonde-haired man shook his head, "It is nothing," he muttered quietly; she looked at him and caught his eye. "Truly," he gave her a reassuring smile but even she could see that he seemed a little uncomfortable. Then, noticing that she truly did not have the slightest clue of what had happened he felt obligated to enlighten her, "You should have turned the bowl that is all."

"Oh."

Hermione could not stop the rush of blood to her cheeks. How was she supposed to know that people here were so sensitive about such things?! How utterly preposterous! Now that she really thought about it, people here cared about these little things.

"Well, now I know, thank you for elaborating." She forced herself to say feeling a bit put out that he would feel offended, embarrassed or worse, disgusted that she drank from the same spot he had.

He shrugged his shoulders and when he smiled she finally found herself relaxing, "We are getting closer. I think two more days and we will arrive at Hogwarts at last."

She nodded, glad for the change of topic and for the good news. She could not wait to get to Hogwarts. Hermione was feeling both anxious and thrilled to return to the only place that was familiar to her.

But, what if she was not welcomed there? That thought truly terrified her. She was positive that the decision did not rest only on Salazar's hands. What was she going to do if they did not allow her to stay in the castle? What then? She would be completely alone in an unfamiliar world to her. She didn't know the common tongue and from what she had experienced a few days ago, back at the market, Latin was a forgotten language that not many had bothered to learn.

"Salazar?" she asked quietly, almost shyly.

Salazar slowly turned his head and glanced questioningly at her.

Hermione drew a shaky breath, battling for composure. However, as hard as she tried to keep herself in check, tears still gathered in her eyes. She shook her head and tried to hide her face away from him. _Oh, Gods._ She couldn't lose it. Not now. She had lasted this long and wasn't about to lose it in front of him of all people.

Salazar frowned and he made a move to grab her when she tried to stand up, "Hermione–"

She shook her head, "No! I–I just need a moment." She blurted out and tried to break free from him.

The man all but ignored her and quickly gathered her in his arms; he rubbed a large hand up and down her back as she collapsed against him, all the fight suddenly gone out of her.

"You can trust me." He whispered against her ear as he pressed her tightly against his chest.

Could she? Could she really trust him? She was so tired, that was why she was crying. She was exhausted. She couldn't find the answers to her problems and she feared what tomorrow could bring.

"I want to go home," came her shaky reply as she cried, loud sobs now wracking her body.

Salazar stiffened. Here was his chance. He found himself nodding slowly, not wishing to startle her.

"Where is home?" he asked quietly, his hand still rubbing her back.

"I am sure you know," she whispered as her sobs turned into the occasional sniffle. "You are a smart man," she added, not seeing the small smile on his face.

There was a pregnant pause.

"This is your home now." He told her gently, "I don't know how you came to be here, but you are here for a reason."

Slowly disentangling herself from his embrace she looked up at him, her chocolate brown eyes meeting with his blue ones, their faces mere inches apart from each other. "You think so?" she asked as the thought of being thrown back in time for a particular reason had never crossed her mind.

His smile widened slightly and as he nodded a loud squawking sound from above startled the two of them, ending their little moment.

Looking up, Hermione's gaze rested on the dark bird in flight. As her gaze traced its flight, she couldn't help but think that perhaps Salazar was right.

* * *

**A/N: Gimmie opinions, lovelies! You know the more reviews I get, the faster I update… err… *bribes with cookies?* Hope to have the next one out by next week, love to all!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: OMG you guys! I cannot even explain how happy you all make me! I seriously jump around with joy everytime I see a new review. You are the ones that keep me going; that compel me to keep writing the deliciousness of our dear Salazar. So thank you so much and I hope you continue to do so! **

**So once again thanks to all for your wonderful reviews, follows and favourites! **

**Also, big thanks to my dear beta – Tsukuyomu. You're awesome! **

* * *

**Reviews;**

**Littleredloser3101** – Thank you dear! I am glad you enjoyed the little moment between the two of them. There will be plenty more in the future! :3

**RiAddison**– Welcome to Salazar X Hermione fandom. There aren't many of us out there so I am more than glad that so far you are enjoying the story. *Feeds you cookies*

**Themadamex** – You can be my spoiled child! I will spoil you with lots and lots of Hermione X Salazar! And I totally agree with you. I hate a happy Helga Hufflepuff. I don't know why, I just do. I always imagined her to be more like Éowyn from Lord of the rings. A woman struggling in a men's world. I am glad you like that I made Salazar a blondie. I have read him as a dark-haired and even red-haired but I decided to keep him blond. I guess I wanted to be different. AH. :D

**Moi**** – I swear I will kidnap you and have you sit here with me while I write this story and bomb you with questions about the middle ages. HAHA yes, Salazar just has too much gold on his hands so he doesn't care how much he gives away, really. But of course he also has a generous side to him, aham! I am so happy you loved Helga. That is exactly what I was aiming for. She feels very insecure about her own abilities and feels that she is not much of use. The poor gal. **

**The bowl moment I read somewhere that only married couples drank from the same spot. Everyone else just turns the bowl. But I agree with you and Tsukuyomu. *cringes* **

**Isabelle123**** – Oh my dear, thank you so much. I hope you will like this chapter!**

* * *

Merlin's Pants, Help Me!

Chapter VI

* * *

The boy thumbed his belt, checking his wand for quick access. Best to be sure, he thought darkly as the memory of Professor Rowena flashed in his mind. He would not just stand still and let whatever happened to her, happen to someone else. He would not allow anything to threaten his home, nor his family. He would never admit it out loud but he had come to think of these people–the ones who provided him with a roof, food, and an education–as family.

A silver moon shone through the trees, lighting the boy's path. Just underground, and to his left, he spotted a badger about to break cover. All well so far. He remembered Gryffindor's words all too well when he first arrived to the castle. _"You are, in no circumstances, to venture into the forest. It is forbidden and it is for your safety that I ask this of you."_ Back then, he found himself thinking, what was it that scared them so? They were the great witches and wizards that everyone talked about. He thought them to be invincible, but clearly that was not the case. Rowena's fragile expression as she lay in her cot was an obvious indicator that despite their greatness they too had weaknesses.

But not Salazar, he thought to himself. He held great admiration for the man. He had been the one to save him from his parents. He had been the only one to stand up to them and take him to Hogwarts. A shiver ran down his spine as the furious expression on his father's face came to mind. No one talked back to him, ever. And Salazar did just that, as though his parents were beneath him, and with no doubt they were. But his parents always thought themselves to be above everyone else, and Salazar was no exception.

The sound of a snapping twig startled him, and he stopped. Someone or something was close. Swallowing hard, the boy reached for his wand and stood perfectly still. He could not explain, let alone make sense of what was transpiring, but an incredible fear tugged at his heart so suddenly and unexpectedly. He could not hear nor see anything, but the fear was cemented in him now and he could not shake it off no matter how hard he tried to keep calm.

Salazar would not be afraid. He chastised himself as he tried to seize courage from the memory of the man he very much admired, but alas, it was futile.

He was scared. He was beyond terrified. He could not even move; his feet seemed to weigh a ton each. His body didn't seem to be his own anymore. It refused to obey his instincts to run the hell away from this place. What kind of magic was this? He opened his mouth to scream but no sound came out. Suddenly, everything seemed to happen in slow motion–the way the moonlight cast an ugly shadow on the unleveled ground–something was there with him.

"I see you…boy."

Arvain's heart skipped a beat. The voice was shrill and for some reason he knew it not to be human. Every word sounded sinful; pure evil. His mind protested and cried out, _"RUN! RUN! WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? RUN!"_

But he could not run. His body was not his own. His feet buried further into the dirt ground and the tone of his breathing deepened but took on a rasping, ragged tortured noise, shallow and rapid, lips trembling with each outlet of air.

"Who is t-t-there?" Arvain's voice trembled; each word dipped in fear.

He kept his gaze fixed on the monstrous shadow and took relief when he realized that whatever was out there was not venturing any closer. He slowly moved his hand towards his wand, but stopped when he suddenly heard it: the voice he most feared to hear.

"Arvain!"

"F-father?" he asked aloud, looking left and right, trying to spot him.

His father could not be here. It was impossible! But the voice was loud and clear and so very like him. It sounded angry, he was always angry–his father. He shook when his father's voice spoke again, this time it called out for him more urgently and ferociously. Everything around him seemed to become darker and his surroundings spun around him, making him feel lightheaded and sick to his stomach.

"Come here boy!" His father's voice was adamant.

For a moment, he was no longer in the forbidden forest, but he was back at home. His grey eyes fell upon his mother, who was standing by the door. She always just stood there; no emotion ever crossed her cold features. Her dark eyes regarded him as though he was nothing to her. Arvain was cowering on the floor, tears stained his red cheeks, and his hands were in front of his face, protecting it from his father's blows.

"Your brother mastered it and he was two years younger than you!" The tall angry man spat, kicking him on his left side, not at all the least bit affected by the boys' pleas. "You are naught but a failure! You do not try hard enough! You think magic is a play thing, do you?" Again, another kick, this time it hit the boy's back.

His entire body ached but he still found strength within himself to crawl towards the door where his mother was standing. His tiny hand reached out for the skirt of her dress and he wrapped his fingers firmly around the cloth.

"P-please mum…"

The woman yanked the skirt away from his grasp as though his hand burned her. She looked down at him and their gazes met. For the first time emotion betrayed her cold façade, and he saw that a look of absolute disgust was plastered on her features.

"Your father is absolutely right. You are not worthy of this family."

"M-mum…" his voice cracked, her words hurt him far more than any beating he had experienced at the hands of his father.

Suddenly the pain was gone and he was back in the forest, and Arvain found that he could move again. Quickly whirling around, the young boy dashed forward, his little legs carried him as far and as fast as they could. His heart threatened to stop and the air seemed to burn his lungs but he had to keep going. After what seemed to be hours, but in reality had been just only minutes, he stopped. He bent down, hands on his knees, as to catch his breath.

Slowly, the horrific shadow towered over Arvain. His eyes were wide in horror but still he did not dare to look back directly at the shadow's source.

"I… See… You."

The voice all but repeated inside his head and then, his world was wrapped in darkness.

* * *

"My name is Hermione," she repeated, the new words rolling off her tongue strangely. Salazar chuckled at her terrible accent, but at least she said the words correctly, and anyone would be able to easily understand her.

It had been her suggestion to have him teach her a few basic phrases of the common tongue and he was pleased with her initiative. Relying only on her knowledge of Latin would get her nowhere, especially amongst the muggle folk. He was also quite impressed with her ability to absorb every piece of information and retain it immediately. She was quite the bright witch, which befitted him well. He did not tolerate ignorant people.

"How are you?" he asked her, watching as she immediately recognized the words.

Hermione smiled back at him, pleased with herself and their progress so far. They had been on the road for four days exactly, and having him teach her the common tongue was a welcoming distraction to both. The first day after her outburst had been the most awkward. Both had spent most of the time in absolute silence. She caught him sneaking a few glances at her, his intense blue eyes trying to read through her, giving her no doubts that the man was internally struggling to keep himself from bombarding her with questions.

"I am…" she paused to search for the right word, "well," she added and smiled when he smiled back at her.

The second day was the day she suggested that she should start learning the common tongue. If she was going to be stuck here, then she would have to learn it, and as quickly as possible. The first day he had started with the basics, such as formal greetings, afterwards he had started with a bit of vocabulary; repeating them in Latin and having her repeat them in the common tongue. And so the third and fourth–the present day–days, they found themselves reviewing what she had learned so far, adding new words and phrases every now and then.

"And you?" Hermione asked shyly, wondering if her words were the right ones.

Salazar's smile only widened and he nodded, "Very good. You are a fast learner." He complimented her in Latin and he could not help but notice the way her cheeks reddened at the appraisal.

Wherever they went, there were animals visible and nearby. Throughout the day she had seen rabbits, deer and even a beautiful red fox peeping through the bushes. Even though their journey had been long and seriously exhausting she could not help but think that everything was absolutely amazing. She had no idea how to respond to it all, so she just enjoyed it, delighted and utterly overwhelmed by it all.

Every now and then in the middle of their lessons, Salazar would suddenly grow quiet and look into the distance, completely lost in his thoughts with a somewhat painful expression on his face. Hermione wished to know what was afflicting him but dared not ask. Even if she did ask, she knew he would not answer her. It was as if they had a mutual silent agreement, where they did not question each other even if they desired to know the answers they had been seeking for ever since they met each other.

The path wound and zigzagged its way upwards. As they climbed higher and higher, the lowlands were no longer visible. Even the plants disappeared after a while and then it was only bare rocks on all sides. They kept going until the path became wider and flatter. Salazar stilled the horse and took a good look around their surroundings.

"We will stay here for the night." He told her.

She nodded, noting that his tone was resolute. He sounded cold and distant and she noticed that his eyebrows were knotted, a crease between them. She bit her lower lip nervously and as she found a suitable place to sit down, she noticed the awful state of her dress; it was incredibly filthy. She didn't even want to think about her own hair. Retrieving her wand, she managed to clean herself somewhat but she dearly craved for a proper bath. Suddenly, the tub and that strange soap from the inn weren't so unappealing anymore.

Her attention went back to the man. She looked at him as he elegantly waved his wand, no sound coming out of his lips. She watched as twigs and dry moss built into a pile. Suddenly, flames started to flicker and slowly a fire began forming. When he beckoned her over to it, she gladly moved from her spot and sat next to him. She realized then just how much taller he was than her. Now that she thought about it, all men that she had encountered, even the women back in the muggle town they were in, were all much taller than her.

"We should rest." He told her breaking the awkward silence, "We are close."

Hermione noticed how weary he looked and she knew that it wasn't because of their journey. He thought she did not notice but she did; she noticed how every time he thought her to be deep asleep he would rise and would either stand or sit awake, staring into nothingness.

That night was no different. As she lay atop the blanket that Salazar had so kindly given to her, she heard him stir and moments later, watched him as he stood up. He was facing east, the direction they had been heading to the entire day. She slowly sat up and watched him intently. She noticed that his hand was clutching his chest and she remembered that one moment when he had stumbled forward.

_"I need…home…something is not right…"_

_"It's nothing little one. It's just… I am needed at home."_

The bushy-haired witch was now on her feet and as she walked towards him, he gave her no signs that he was aware of her presence. It was as though he was in some kind of trance. She whirled around him, facing him and even then he kept looking past her, an expression of suffering on his handsome face. For a moment she forgot to breathe, his blue eyes were teary but no tears ever came out. His lips were slightly parted and the knuckles of his hand that clutched at his chest were ghostly white.

"Salazar?" her voice came out quietly and timidly.

"She is fading," the hurt in his voice seemed to stab her own heart. He was still not looking at her, "She is fading," he repeated more strongly and when his gaze fell on hers, Hermione found herself taking a step back.

Her gesture seemed to bring him back from whatever self-induced trance he was in. "Hermione?" he asked in surprise, blinking as it was still dark and wondering what she was doing awake.

The young witch quickly realized that he did not have the slightest clue of what had transpired. "You were… acting strange," she said, not missing the flash of worry that crossed his features.

"Was I?" he asked, suddenly turning his back on her. He started to put out the fire and then walked towards the quiet horse.

"Yes you were," she pressed on as she walked after him, "Salazar, please. Is something wrong?"

He ignored her completely while he readjusted the horse's saddle. "Yes there is." He snapped, "You are delaying me." His voice was strong and accusatory.

She frowned deeply and guilt started to sink in. He had been so hopeful that she would be able to Apparate them directly to Hogwarts but for some blasted reason she had been unable to. She knew he was in a hurry to get there but he had kept his reasons concealed. It was obvious that something major was happening in Hogwarts and though she was dying to know, she yet again dared not ask.

Her eyes widened when the man mounted his horse and looked down at her with an expression of absolute coldness, "Keep going east." He said and as she opened her mouth to retort, he started the horse, both quickly disappearing into the darkness of the night.

She stayed very still, looking into nothingness with her lips parted. Her chest began heaving up and down rapidly as she was left completely alone. Her knees suddenly gave out under her and she fell on the dirt ground.

_Don't be stupid, Hermione. He will come back_. She thought as she kept her gaze on the darkness ahead of her.

* * *

It was only then, when Hogwarts came into view, that the guilt spread through him like a disease. He could not turn back now. No, he was positive–absolutely sure that the young woman would be fine without him. From the time that they had spent together he had had plenty of time to study her and if there was one thing he was sure of it was that Hermione was a survivor. He could tell by the way she carried herself; even though she found herself at ease around him, she still eyed their surroundings carefully, always on the lookout. He noticed how her hand was always ready to reach for her wand just in case something attacked them.

So why did he care so much? She was only a day away from Hogwarts on foot and he had seen her do extremely well with a wand when faced with dangerous situations. In fact, she knew quite a lot of things that he did not. The Apparate-ing issue was something he was itching to learn.

Taking in a deep breath, Salazar dismounted the horse easily and patted it, whispering kind words to the animal that was just as tired as he was. Then he looked at the tall gates that would lead him inside the castle. The tugging feeling around his heart only intensified when the doors opened before him automatically as they always did when he arrived home. The castle and he were connected.

For a while he managed to walk unnoticed as the hallways were empty. He walked at a brisk pace, his long cloak billowing behind him. However, his presence did not go unnoticed for much longer. Students started to fill into the corridors and they all came to a halt when they spotted their professor. They quickly scurried away and silence reigned in as he walked by. The look on the man's face clearly spoke volumes and it was a look that clearly told them that now was not the time for pleasantries.

After he left the corridors behind, he made his way towards the staircases that would lead him to Godric's study. Finally arriving to his destination, the blonde-haired man pushed the door open. His eyes fell on the surprised duo; Godric was standing by the window and Helga had probably been pacing the room back and forth, an old habit of hers. They both looked like they had been through hell. Never before had he seen Helga's hair so messy, she had dark circles under her eyes and she looked even paler, if that was possible. Godric had that look in his eyes, a look that he knew all too well.

They were in trouble.

"So what the hell happened to you two?" Salazar asked, dropping his sack on the floor, removing his long cloak, "You look like you have been through hell and back."

Godric nodded, absently pushing a stray lock of damp black hair away from his eyes, "You have no idea. What took you so–"

"Rowena is dying." Helga blurted out paying no attention to Godric's glare.

"Helga…"

Her eyes met Salazar's and she fought back her tears, "Something happened to her while in the forest. It is some type of dark magic we have never encountered before! And on top of that there is a student–"

"Helga!" Godric said again, this time more firmly. Helga opened her mouth as if to say something more, but instead she shut it abruptly and sank into the closest chair with a humiliated, if not hurt, look on her face.

Salazar's gaze searched Godric's to seek confirmation on Helga's words and he found it. He now understood why the summoning had been so urgent to the point that it was hurting him physically. He took a deep breath as the news sunk in, but somehow he could not find himself thinking clearly when that witch kept occupying his thoughts. He turned his gaze away from Godric and looked at Helga. For now it would be best if she felt that she was of use.

"Helga, I have a favour to ask of you."

Godric just sort of stared; he had never heard Salazar ask a favour of anyone. Helga, in particular, was shocked out of her mind and just sat there with her mouth hanging open. She then quickly regained composure and nodded slowly, "Of course," she replied, sounding rather eager to help, "you can ask anything of me, Salazar. You know that."

"I was travelling here with a companion; a young witch. Her name is Hermione Granger and I left her all alone so that I could hurry here. Take my horse, go meet her halfway and bring her here safely."

Helga nodded and was quickly on her feet, "Leave it to me."

"Okay," Godric said slowly, raising a dark eyebrow curiously, probably making a point to ask Salazar about this later.

Salazar was unfazed by his friend's curious stare, "Now, let me see Rowena. Let me see what I can do."

As the two men walked side by side down the corridor, Godric informed Salazar about the intruder that was currently hiding in the forbidden forest. Salazar's brows were drawn together as he listened to every word. He cursed himself inwardly, if he had been here, perhaps he could have prevented this from ever occurring. He watched as Godric opened the door to Rowena's chambers and he walked inside, his eyes resting on her prone figure. To anyone that was unaware of the events that had taken place, Rowena would appear to be asleep. For a moment he seriously thought she would wake up, and they would laugh at him, and that all of this had just been a poor prank.

Salazar approached the bed and leaned closer to the woman that he considered to be one of his closest friends. His big hand gently touched her forehead and his head snapped upwards to face Godric.

"This is powerful dark magic. But you already knew that."

"Now you understand why I summoned you."

Salazar's stare hardened, "Yes. What I do not understand is why you would send both Rowena and Helga to investigate something or someone as powerful enough to trespass our wards." His tone was harsh but he could not help the smug yet bitter smile that crossed his face. He knew his words had struck home and the damage had already been done.

Godric knew he was right. He should have gone himself or at the very least sent someone else. For a while both men just stared at each other and then Godric decided that he might as well be out with it, "There is something else that you should know…," a pause, "Arvain is missing."

_"What?!"_

* * *

She didn't know how long she stayed there glued to the ground, her eyes fixed on the horizon as she waited. All sort of emotions took over her; anger, disappointment, emptiness and it was the latter that hurt the most–loneliness. He just left her there! He just left her there completely on her own! Bastard! Idiotic buffoon!

Humiliation and complete disappointment clawed at her core as a part of her really thought that he would come back for her. Despite the way she felt, she knew that deep down, he probably had a very good reason to leave her behind but she still could not help the name calling that followed. Her current mood did not help either. She had been walking for hours or at least it felt like hours. Her leg muscles protested but she merely kept pushing herself forward.

Stopping was not a choice. Thanks to her previous encounters with both muggles and wizards alike, she did not like the idea of encountering people on the road. The mere thought mortified her.

A great mist had settled ahead and if Hermione did not know better she thought it shifted in unnatural ways. She came to a sudden halt as she heard something and she squinted her eyes. A lone figure loomed out of the mist, like a rider on a rearing horse, long blond-hair flowing behind them. Hermione's heart almost came to a stop and she instantly forgave Salazar for leaving her. He had come back!

It was only then, as the figure approached, that she noticed the very feminine features of the rider. The grip on her wand intensified when her eyes met the beautiful woman's gaze.

"Hermione?"

When Hermione did not reply, the rider kept going, "I am Helga, a friend of Salazar."

Hermione's eyes widened at the name she was given and she nodded slowly, "Is he alright?" She inquired in Latin, watching as curiosity manifested on the other woman's face.

"Yes. He arrived well. He asked me to come and bring you to him." She replied.

The bushy-haired witch nodded quietly and offered Helga a smile she was quite familiar with.

A fake smile.


	7. Chapter 7

Reviews

Zeehana: I'm so glad you are enjoying it! There's so much more to come trust me!

Blackraven4400: Thank you! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Littleredloser3101: Hahaha, yes you weren't the only one calling Salazar a Jerk! Poor Salazar, he had his own reasons though! Thank you dear!4

Guest \- Thank you so much for your kind review! I hope you will like this next installment.

Moi: - Hablas español?! LOL My spanish isn't that good unfortunately. But I do understand what is being said to me, I just can't reply in Spanish. I think since the times aren't as safe for witches and wizards, there would be wards around the school as a safety measure. At least that is what I am applying in this story. It could also be because Hogwarts is not yet the Hogwarts Hermione is acquainted with.

I get really upset when you review because this silly website only shows guests reviews like two days later after they have reviewed! *throws rocks at fanfiction . net* But the wait is totally worth it! I love reading your reviews, they make my day really.

...

Tsukuyomu - I love you dear! Once again thank you so much for your lovely input and for BETAing this chapter.

* * *

Merlin's Pants, Help Me!

Chapter VII

* * *

A disaster. That was what he was. What all of his men were. How could they have been so easily defeated by a mere witch? He had not sensed anything special about the wench, but now he could clearly see that casting her aside, just because she was young and irrelevant to their mission, had been one big mistake. Just who was she? She had to be someone of great importance to Slytherin. He always travelled alone.

He shook in sheer anger and threw the glass he was holding against the wall. The few men that were sitting about were startled by his outburst but quickly paid him no mind as they went back to drinking, still grieving over the loss of their companion.

The tavern's door opened and a bell rang loudly; however, the tavern's occupants were too busy drinking and chatting with one another to notice the small, shy man who entered. His hair was dirty and reached his shoulders. The clothes he wore, filthy and his hands held onto a hat. His boots were worn out and completely filled with mud and by the horrible stench he was emitting, horse dung.

His eyes scanned the crowd until he finally found the man he was looking for. It was not like the man was hard to miss anyways. Jonathan always had his hood pulled up, shrouding his face in shadows, in order to hide his monstrous face. He had never seen it himself, the full expanse of the curse he had been hit with, but he had seen small glimpses of it, and knew enough. He approached his table and coughed, clearing his throat in order to get the man's attention.

"What do you want, you diminutive scoundrel?" Jonathan barked out, sounding to be in a foul mood, not that he had ever heard the man in anything but a foul mood. It was as if a Dementor had sucked everything good out of the man's soul, leaving behind only abhorrence and resentment.

"He is here."

The tavern's bell rang loudly again barely muffling the loud chatter inside the tavern and a lone figure stepped inside. The figure regarded the men around the tavern with a look of repulsion. The man was quite tall with broad shoulders, his hair short and blonde with a few grey streaks visibly apparent. His eyes were a powerful intense blue, and he wore a beautiful long green cloak that hid his perfectly immaculate white tunic. Unlike his messenger, his leather boots were spotless. He was the perfect definition of a misfit.

With a short nod that the messenger knew to be his sign of dismissal, he left the two men, and scampered off.

"Who are you?" Jonathan asked, trying to keep his tone neutral, but failing at it for it came out more of a command than a question.

The man seemed to be completely unaffected by it and sat himself down while slowly removing one of his gloves.

"You are a lucky man," the male started off as he inspected his surroundings. He spotted a few men stealing glances at him, no doubt trying to analyze whether he was a threat or not. "These…curs seem quite keen in having you as their master."

"Again…who are you?" Jonathan asked, this time sounding terse. He had always prided himself in being a man who was extremely hard to track down, yet here was this man, appearing to have found him effortlessly. He must be losing his touch, or there was something more to this man than what his appearance outwardly projected.

"I have only been in Dufftown for approximately a day and I already find it to be quite remarkable," the man all but ignored him and continued, "had I known of its charm and fascinating…inhabitants, I would have come ages ago." The man ended, every word heavily drenched in sarcasm.

Jonathan said nothing but slowly and discreetly reached for his wand when the man resumed his speech, "I suppose I have you to thank…for extending this invitation."

"I will not ask again. Who are you?" Jonathan asked as he pointed his wand at the blonde-haired male. He watched as the man stared at him, unimpressed with his silent threat, or if he was frightened at having a wand pointed at him, he did not show it.

"Oh. You are a smart man. I am sure you know who I am. I am an intelligent man myself you see, so let me tell you what my spies have told me about you, Jonathan. Right now, you think you are in a good spot, having filthy muggles follow you around like the dogs they are," the man paused and smirked, removing his remaining glove. "You gathered yourself a little family and your ultimate goal is to kill Godric Gryffindor and anyone close to him. What I do not understand is what for? To get control over the school?"

Jonathan opened his mouth to interrupt but the man did not allow him.

"So in an act of true despair, you reach out to the one man on this earth who hates Godric Gryffindor more than you do. But I could not understand what you hoped to gain by targeting Salazar. Yet knowing who I am, you dared to call me, the one they call the slayer, the one who's burnt cities far more charming than this one to the ground. That shows courage, and I value courage." he said, a cunning smirk slowly appearing on his face. "So let me make you a promise, here and now: you can have the school, you can even be the one to kill that damned Gryffindor boy, but first, you will tell me who the woman that travels with my son exactly is."

* * *

Hermione did not trust herself to speak. This woman was Helga Hufflepuff! She knew from the moment Salazar promised her he would escort her to Hogwarts that she would eventually meet with the remaining founders, but to be on top of a horse clinging tightly onto Helga Hufflepuff made her realize how easy it was to forget the life you had lead before. The past days–or was it weeks?–she had lost all sense of time. It had been almost as if she had moved on, like a part of her had accepted that this was her life now, although, there was still a tiny little voice nagging at her constantly, repeating the same phrase, like a chant: she could not stay.

And then his voice, strong and determined, assured her that she had come to be here for a reason. She knew him to be right, deep down in her heart, she knew it.

Her mind jumped and danced from thought to thought; Harry and Ronald. Were they alright? They were probably worrying and searching for her. She shook her head and bit her lower lip hard enough to make it bleed._ Don't think about it_, she repeated in her head. She knew that if she gave reign to her feelings, everything would pour out of her.

Her inner confusion suddenly disappeared as the hills gave way and allowed her to take a good look at the castle that one day would grow to be the magnificent Hogwarts she had attended. Even from a distance, Hermione could tell that the clock tower was missing; it would probably be added later on in the future. The castle seemed to be smaller as they got closer and she figured it was only normal and logical. She could not wait to get inside and start exploring. _I should write a journal of everything while I am here,_ she thought excitedly.

Helga stopped the horse in the viaduct courtyard and extended a helping hand to Hermione, who missed it entirely as she stared at the small building that would, with no doubt, lead them to the Great Hall. Memories of her first year came to her and she could just picture Professor McGonagall standing by the Chamber of Reception looking down at all of them with a stern look on her face right before their sorting.

"Hermione?"

Blinking, she turned to look at the expectant blonde-haired woman who was eyeing her with a curious look on her face.

"Oh, I'm sorry." She mumbled and quickly accepted Helga's extended hand.

Helga smiled and Hermione simply followed her. She looked around at her surroundings carefully and as they finally walked inside, Hermione's stomach was in knots. She did not remember walking, or even how long they had walked. A sudden and unexplainable feeling of anger was taking over her and it was only when they walked by an empty Great Hall that the reason for her anger became clear to her. She was angry at herself.

She wanted Salazar to be correct in his assumptions as an excuse for her to stay. Even if a part of her agreed with him, even if she wanted to stay here and learn–and she knew that there was plenty of wonderful things for her to learn–she was angry at herself for forgetting her plan to find a way to get back home, her plan to go back to her own time.

The Room of Requirements. It should be her ticket home.

And suddenly, there it was. The place where it all begun. She was walking right past it. There was no mistaking it. She could feel it in the air around her, feel the powerful magic pulling at her so viciously, as if daring her to use it again.

The question was: did she dare?

_Hermione…_

Harry's voice!

The bushy-haired witch came to an abrupt halt and stared at the stone wall, eyes wide in alarm. She did not see the blonde-haired woman stop and turn around to look at her.

_Hermione…_

_Hermione!_

"Hermione?"

She jumped at the sudden weight of a heavy hand on her shoulder and found herself turning to look at a dark-haired man. She blinked, the spell or whatever was, had now been completely broken. She noticed Helga by his side and nodded slowly, "Yes. You are?" she asked, feeling slightly lightheaded, wishing to be far away from this particular hallway. By the confused looks on their faces, she realized she had used English but before she could translate it into Latin, the man all but introduced himself.

"I am Godric Gryffindor, I have heard of you from Salazar." He spoke, his voice sounded so perfectly composed, which was so very unlike his appearance. The man looked like he was about to faint any time soon.

She nodded and smiled, "It is a pleasure to meet you sir. I have heard from you as well."

"Yes, she probably has. And I assure you Godric; none of it came from me."

Hermione quickly whirled around and a mix of all sort of feelings hit her at once. It was wonderful to see him again and she was shocked at such a revelation. They had only been a day apart; surely something was wrong with her? Ah, yes of course! It was only logical of her to miss the only person she was most acquainted with in this era. Yes, that was it!

"I must be quite famous then," Godric added with a playful smile, which instantly lit his features making her forget just how miserable he had looked a second ago. "It is not every day that Salazar brings family home. I hope you will like it here and adapt to the local language as well our customs."

Helga blinked. Family? She took a better look at the young witch. She was Salazar's family? She did not believe it one second and surely Godric did not either. Were they hiding something from her? It would not be the first time that they would keep her out of their little secrets. The girl looked to be just as confused as Helga was but she recovered quickly and a smile was now in place to hide her initial surprise.

"Ah yes. Salazar was most kind when he offered his assistance. When he told me of Hogwarts," Hermione looked at Salazar; his eyes were filled with mirth. No doubt enjoying himself as she struggled to lie, "I immediately wished to come and see for myself."

Godric nodded, "It is settled then." He said and then looked at his friend, "I trust you will see Hermione to her room, she must be exhausted."

There was suddenly a strangled silence making Hermione fidget slightly. She was no fool; she could almost feel the painful and strong tension that surrounded the four of them. So she forced herself to nod in agreement, "Yes, that would be lovely." She replied, not being able to shake the feeling that she was anything but welcomed.

"Well then," Godric bowed his head shortly, avoiding eye contact with the young woman. Instead he turned his gaze on Salazar and pinned him with a glare, "until next time." He added and swiftly whirled around, leaving them behind.

Helga frowned, unsure of what was happening. As usual, she thought bitterly. She too bowed slightly to Hermione and Salazar, "If you will excuse me." She hastily added before she turned around to follow Godric.

"That went well, do you not agree?" Salazar asked as he moved a hand to her back, steering her around.

"You didn't tell him?" she asked, frowning deeply as she allowed him to lead her down the hallway.

"You expected me to do so? To tell him that you are not of this time?" he asked and shook his head, "No, Hermione. I did not. And you would do well to keep that just between us."

"I do not understand." She said, blinking as she looked up at him. "Surely, you are aware that he knows that we are lying?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "Trust me, little one. If he knew the truth, he would not be as welcoming as he was just a few seconds ago."

For a while they walked in silence. Hermione's thoughts went back to Godric's behavior and then Salazar's words. Did he not trust Godric to keep her secret? A cold shiver suddenly licked her spine; maybe it was not that he did not trust Godric with the secret, but rather that he feared what Godric would do with it?

"Hermione."

She looked up at Salazar; a questioning look on her tired face.

"I must apologize…" he paused and frowned as he looked down at her."I was needed here and I…" he paused again, struggling to come up with words.

A smile slowly appeared on her features and she moved a hand to his arm, "I know you had your reasons." She said and watched as he looked relieved, "You really need to work on your apologies, though."

He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. "A Slytherin never apologizes. I grew up hearing those words so I am not very good at apologizing," he quietly added. "Ah! Here we are. I had one of the servants prepare this room for you."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat as she stared at the beautifully furnished room. There was a double bed between two large windows, one of which seemed to have a balcony. She noticed a chair where several dresses rested. She looked to her left, spotting a fire that was lit and a tub with steam coming from it. She walked inside, not noticing that Salazar remained outside by the door. She smiled happily when she noticed some towels, soap and a proper comb settled on top of a chest of drawers. There was a small mirror as well and she slowly took it, gasping loudly at her reflection.

"I look like a banshee!" she exclaimed out loud only then remembering that Salazar was still there. She quickly whirled around and blushed, "I probably smell too!"

He smirked at her, "You want my honest opinion?"

"No thank you."

He chuckled and shook his head, "I will leave you then. Rest and I shall collect you in the morning."

She nodded and motioned him to leave with her hand as she turned her full attention towards the bath tub.

* * *

When she opened the door, Salazar barely recognized her. The young woman had her hair up in a firm ponytail; her wild hair now tamed. She was looking undeniably recuperated, the new dress adapted well to her slender body. He nodded in approval. "Much better," he informed her, only to have her roll her eyes back at him. It pleased him how she was not vain like most women he knew.

"So, I couldn't really sleep last night." She confessed and he thought it to be quite obvious as she still looked quite exhausted, "And I was thinking that you should provide me with details of your little lie in order to make it more…convincing."

He raised his brows in surprise, "You needn't worry about it. By now, the entire castle knows that you are Hermione Granger, your mother was Laoghaire Slytherin and married into the Granger family from Prussia–which is where you hail from." He said, all the while looking at her.

"Is there even a Laoghaire Slytherin?" she asked curiously.

He smirked, "Does that even matter?" he replied as he led her down another corridor.

"Well I suppose not."

He suddenly came to a stop and Hermione could hear all the noise that was going on behind the closed doors, "I believe you are well acquainted with the Great Hall, no?" he asked her, teasingly. And then without waiting for her reply, he pushed the door open and she was suddenly taken aback at the sight before her.

There were children and teenagers sitting about; eating and chatting to their hearts' contents. She noticed that none wore uniforms, thus preventing her from identifying which person belonged to which house. However, that didn't seem to be a concern in this time period, as she had the feeling that there was no prejudice between the four houses.

Not yet anyway, she thought darkly. It was a beautiful sight to contemplate and she was happy to be here and witness it.

Salazar walked her to a table that she was well familiar with: the professors' table. She noticed that unlike in her time, all of the chairs were of the same size, including Godric's and Helga's which led her to believe that they did not see the need to distinguish themselves from the others with them at the table. She found her cheeks heating as every man and woman sitting at the table stopped conversing as she and Salazar approached.

"You must be Hermione!" a dark-haired handsome man chimed in, breaking the awkward silence. "I am Frederic; it is a pleasure to finally meet you."

Hermione realized he was introducing himself and making use of her very limited vocabulary, she nodded at him, "Well met." She added quietly and quickly sat down.

Frederic blinked, and it was only then, when Helga leaned close to him to whisper something in his ear, that he realized why the woman had looked so embarrassed.

Noticing her embarrassment, Salazar took a piece of bread and offered it to her, "Eat." He commanded simply, not noticing the appreciative look on her face. She slowly took the bread and began eating, smothering all of the other voices and firmly ignoring the curious stares. She noticed the two empty seats, one which no doubt belonged to Godric and the other to the woman she had yet to meet: Rowena Ravenclaw.

A sudden loud ruckus made her gaze ahead as students gathered and appeared to be yelling something.

"They are begging for a song," Salazar whispered in her ear when a young red-haired girl stood up on her chair, quieting the crowd almost instantly.

She looked at him in bewilderment and then back at the child. She couldn't be more than what? Twelve? Thirteen? She suddenly felt great admiration for the girl. She would never be able to stand in the spotlight, much less sing to an audience.

The girl opened her mouth and the voice that came out was powerful and beautiful.

"Sing me a song of a Lass that is gone…"

Hermione jumped, startled at the hot breath close to her ear. She relaxed and her smile widened when she realized he was translating for her.

"Say could that Lass be I?

Merry of soul, she sailed on a day,

Over the sea to Skye,

Billow and Breeze, Islands and seas,

Mountains of rain and sun,

All that was good, all that is fair

All that was me is gone.

Sing me a song of a Lass that is gone,

Say could that Lass be I?"

The little girl finished her song and the entire hall erupted into cheers and clapping. She was blushing and bowed as she faced the professors' table.

* * *

_"We stick together as one," Rowena said, her big dark eyes looking at the other three standing before her._

_"Always," Helga replied, a wide grin plastered on her beautiful features._

_"And forever," Godric added quietly as his gaze fell on the abandoned castle._

_Slowly, the three turned their heads to glance at the blonde-haired male. He was looking straight ahead with his jaw set firmly. Everyone wondered what Salazar was thinking about. They knew it had been extremely difficult for him to leave his family behind. As the sole heir to an entire clan and without any siblings, he could not have parted in good terms._

_"Yes," Salazar replied at last, "That we shall." his voice cracked with emotion._

_Rowena smiled and playfully punched his shoulder, "What? Is baby Sal going to cry?" she asked teasingly._

_Salazar stiffened and glared at her, "Do not be silly, woman!" he retorted with a snort and quickly marched forward, leaving the other three behind with knowing smiles on their faces._

_Helga chuckled lightly, "You tease him too much, Rowena."_

_The dark-haired woman only shrugged, "Oh but it is so much fun to tease him, dear Helga."_

As Rowena remained plunged in nothing but darkness, she examined the scene more carefully. The nostalgic smile that had been previously on her face now faltered. Her eyes fell on Salazar's broad back as he marched towards the castle. For some unsettling reason, she knew that those words they spoke before would not hold to be true.

The scenario changed once more and now she saw herself, leaning against the door to Godric's study. She remembered this day all too well. Salazar had arrived with terrible news–muggles were hunting them down: witches and wizards. This time, she walked past herself as she knew this only to be a memory and stepped inside the room.

_"They are burning our kind!" Salazar exploded ferociously. "And you say we should do nothing!?"_

_Godric dragged his chair backwards and instantly jumped to his feet, a stern look on his face. "What do you propose Salazar? Have us go out there and kill every single one of them?! I will not bring more violence and death–"_

_"It is because of people like you, that those filthy muggles have lost faith, and in that loss, they no longer know who they should fear!"_

_The look of shock on Godric's face was one of a kind. He looked at Salazar as though he no longer recognized him. "By the Gods, Salazar! Do you hear yourself?"_

Once again the scene changed and Rowena found herself in her chambers but she was not alone.

_"Now you will tell me what has been bothering you," Rowena's tone was final; it left no room for discussion. Helga had been acting out of sorts ever since Salazar had returned from whatever it was that was doing nowadays. Salazar's absence in Hogwarts was becoming far too noticeable and they could no longer pretend that they were all falling apart._

_"I did not sign up for this, Rowena," Helga's voice was cracking and tears were welling up in her eyes. "I did not!"_

_"If you will just tell me what is wrong then I am sure we can–"_

_"Everything is wrong! Everything! He knows…Oh Rowena, he knows!"_

_Rowena was rendered speechless. Surely, she did not mean that Salazar was aware of Helga's affections? But the look on the other woman's face said it all._

_"You confessed," Rowena deadpanned._

_"I did, and oh! What a fool I was! I knew he could never feel the same and now…now I ruined it. He will never look at me the same."_

_"Helga…" she started quietly as she approached her, wrapping her arms around the blond-haired woman and hugging her tightly, "It will pass. The pain you are feeling now…it will come to pass, and then you will find love again. I am sure."_

_Her friend sobbed loudly, "I do not want to find love again…I just wish to know…what is so wrong about me? Am I not good enough?" Another sob wracked her body, "I come from a good family Rowena and I–"_

_"Oh Helga, it is not that…don't doubt yourself my friend."_

The scene suddenly dissipated away and she was once again left in nothing but darkness. "Please…please stop this…what is the point in all of this?"

"Do you not wish to see what is yet to come, child?"

The voice that spoke in her mind sent shivers down her spine. She knew the dangers of seeing, of knowing the future. She knew she should decline the offer, she knew it with all her heart, but she could not find it in herself to refuse in the end.

"I wish it." She whispered quietly.

"Then see for yourself. How all of you will fall."

…

_**"What did you do!?" Godric's angry tone echoed into the Great Hall.**_

…

_**"I don't believe you!" Helga whispered. She then whirled around, a fierce look on her face. "He is not gone…he cannot be!"**_

…

_**"Do you really think I care for an instant about the bloody muggles!? I will hunt all of you till your end!" Salazar shouted, scaring away all the children, "Do you hear me!? DO YOU!?"**_

…

_**"He is gone, Hermione. And there was nothing I could do to stop it."**_

Rowena woke with a start, gasping for breath, her entire body soaked in her own sweat and as she looked at the man hovering over her, she could not help but think. _Who the bloody hell is Hermione?_

* * *

**A/N: So I was really insecure about this chapter. But thanks to my lovely beta for making my worries go away! ALSO 100+ followers, it's like a dream come true. I am so glad that I actually have people reading this story. Since this is my first story, it means a big deal to me. **

**Also a big thanks for the reviews and positive feedback. Keep it coming! :)**


	8. Chapter 8

Merlin's Pants, Help Me!

Chapter VIII

* * *

If there was anything that Godric detested the most, it was being lied to, and Salazar was completely aware of this, yet he still had the audacity to lie right to his face. The girl, Hermione Granger, was not a distant cousin of his and was undoubtedly concealing something as well. The two of them were quite keen on keeping their little secret locked away and he could not help but feel that whatever that secret was, it was of extreme importance and concerned all of them.

He drummed his fingers impatiently against the arm chair he occupied, an old habit of his that would surface when presented with a puzzle. He was no fool and knew that Salazar could not keep his eyes on the young woman forever. Godric would seize that opportunity to discover just who Hermione Granger truly was, and nothing would prevent him from doing so.

A slight moan from the cot's occupant brought Godric back from his little musings. He was not surprised when the dark-haired woman woke with a start. He knew and had trusted that Slytherin's magic would do the trick, and he did not disappoint. But even so, Godric could not help but resent the fact that such magic was something that Salazar had not earned, but rather, was born with. It was a known fact that protective magic was the rarest magic one could come by, and to have someone such as Salazar bear it and not him–he who would have been a better match; he who had never taken a life before; he who had steered as far away as he could from dark magic–was something that he would never come to understand, let alone wholeheartedly accept.

He quickly stood and moved towards the bed, his eyes filled with a mix of relief and trepidation as he stared down at the pale, dark-haired woman.

"Easy now," he whispered, reaching out for the shivering woman. He helped her to sit properly as he gathered a bunch of pillows behind her back, "How are you feeling?"

Rowena groaned in response. How did she feel? Utterly miserably; like she had been hit repeatedly with a Cruciatus curse. She could not move much, it was as though her limbs were still asleep; her eyes began to tear up, her vision slightly blurred as if she had spent years immersed in nothing but darkness.

"Rowena?" Godric called out hesitantly as he looked at her, wondering if she was suffering from the side-effects of the curse.

She took a deep breath and raised her chin, her eyes held his and she attempted to crack a smile but failed miserably. "Ugh, I feel like shit," she complained quietly. "What happened?" Her dark brows furrowed in confusion as she inquired.

"You mean to tell me that you do not remember?" Godric asked in concern.

She gazed up at her friend and sensing his unease placed a hand on his, squeezing it gently, as she spoke, "I remember the dead centaurs…and then nothing," she said quietly. And when he avoided her gaze, she knew something was amiss, "Godric…for how long have I been–"

"I thought I was going to lose you," he confessed as he gave her hand a soft squeeze of his own. "I thought Salazar would not make it here in time," he paused, "I do not know what I would have done had he not arrived promptly."

"But he has," she said and nodded slowly. "He always does, Godric," her voice barely a whisper, as the feeling of exhaustion coursed through her body; "He always comes back to us…to you." She restated so as to strengthen her last statement. She knew of the males' constant bickering even when they tried to hide it from her and Helga.

Godric clenched his jaw as his hold on her hand intensified, "Sometimes, I wish he did not."

Rowena's eyes widened and she looked at Godric as if he was an entirely different man. "Godric!" she sounded like a mother scolding her child, "How can you say that? This is Salazar that we are talking about!" For a moment he looked ashamed of his own words but the hint of resentment was obvious in his gaze so she continued, "He is young, I admit that he has not been on his best behavior, but–"

"Stop!" Godric interrupted fiercely, removing his hand from hers. He straightened up and looked at her, "You and Helga keep on protecting him! You keep on making excuses but you are blind to who he truly is! And now he brings some lass from only Merlin knows where, who does not even speak our language, and he dares to make a fool out of me when he claims her to be a Slytherin!"

Rowena took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She really did not feel like arguing at the moment nor did she have the strength to do so. Waking up to this was not really what she had in mind. Surely, he could have waited for her to feel slightly better to have one of his little dramatic rants. Wait a minute, a lass? Salazar?

"A lass?" she voiced, frowning as fragments of her dream started to take place. She slowly raised a hand to rub at her left eye and shot him a questioning look.

"Yes, a lass; Hermione Granger from Prussia." He answered and then laughed bitterly, "Yes! That was exactly the look I had when Salazar lied directly to my face."

Rowena shook her head slowly. "Hermione?" she repeated the name and felt sick to the core of her very being.

"Yes," he replied and took notice of how pale she looked. "Are you alright? What is wrong?" he asked, his voiced laced with deep concern. He moved a hand to her forehead but found that her body temperature was rather normal, "I will fetch Salazar."

"No."

"Rowena," Godric started warningly but she cut him off.

"Do not Rowena me Godric Gryffindor," she snapped, catching the man off guard with her brusque tone, "I am fine. I just need to rest. Helga and Salazar may see me after I take a nap and a bath."

The man took a deep breath, not wanting to push her patience any further. "Very well. I shall leave you then."

Rowena said nothing as she watched him leave the room. Only when he was gone did she allow herself to take a deep breath. She focused her thoughts on the lass that Salazar had apparently brought along with him. Hermione…she was one hundred percent sure that that was the name she had heard in her dream. She shook her head and raised her hands up to her messy hair. She felt that she needed to remember something important. Something that had been shown to her in her dream, but she could not figure out what that something was.

* * *

Once the red-haired little girl concluded her song, everyone returned to their seats and resumed eating. Hermione's eyes scanned the table and the only food she found available was bread, bread and more bread. She spotted something that could have been cheese but she dared not try it. She noted that there was also wine, and she vaguely remembered that breakfast–in this era anyways–was not considered the most necessary and important meal of the day. In fact, to be able to have breakfast everyday was something that was considered to be a luxury.

As she reached for more bread, she took notice that the Great Hall was becoming emptier by the minute. She looked up when both Helga and Frederic stood up; both were kind enough to wish her a good day while the other professors merely chose to ignore her existence, which suited her well either way. It was just her and Salazar now, and as she turned to look at him, she found him looking ahead, clearly lost in his own thoughts and completely unaware that everyone else was gone.

She noticed that he did that a lot; he would lock himself away alongside his thoughts and it often made her wonder what it was that he was thinking about. She realized that even though she had been on the road with the man for days on end–and aside from the emergence of the existent bond that had been formed between them on their travels, which she could no longer ignore–she knew nothing of him. Which she supposed was only fair, since she was not willing to share any information about herself with him either.

She coughed into her hand, a pretence to clear her throat when in actuality she was really trying to get his attention, and when that did not seem to work, she hesitantly poked his right arm, "Salazar?"

The sound of her voice immediately did the trick and his head snapped towards her. "Yes?" he asked and then it seemed to sink in that it was just the two of them left.

Hermione eyed him curiously. Did he not have a class to teach? Was he not a professor here? What did he do then, whenever he was at Hogwarts? And how could he be a professor if he spent most of his time running away on mysterious errands? She thought back to the creepy man at the Inn and how Salazar had come to her rescue as an example; he had been after the man but had never disclosed his purpose.

"There are things that require my immediate attention," he suddenly spoke. "I need to go to the Forbidden Forest," he elaborated when she looked slightly confused, "There is a student missing and despite the daily search parties, we have not been able to locate him."

A student went missing? That was horrible. She could now see why he looked so weary and uneasy. A student missing was not a good thing at all. She knew the Forbidden Forest was dangerous–as it was terribly so even in her own time line–but to think that perhaps in this period, it could be so much more was truly a terrifying thought.

"Salazar that is horrible," she spoke, her hand now resting on his forearm. "How long has the student been missing for?" she asked, squeezing his arm gently.

"A week," he replied and sighed loudly, "I would be at ease if you–"

Hermione's eyes widened, "A week!?" She interrupted him, "A bloody week!?"

"Yes, that is exactly what I just–"

"That's beyond horrible! A defenseless child in that forest! By Merlin's beard Salazar, we have to find the child!"

Salazar blinked slowly and took notice of how she just made it known that she was one hundred percent aware of the Forbidden Forest and how dangerous it could be. He took a deep breath. Had they not been successful in turning the damned place into something harmless where students could go in and out of as they pleased, even in her time? As he looked down at her, he wondered just how far ahead she was from the future. He wanted to ask her that and so many more questions but he knew that she was nowhere near ready to reveal anything important to him. So for now, he would take his time and wait for the appropriate moment to make his inquiries.

"We?" he asked her, now slightly amused that she wished to go along.

"Yes! I am going with you. I cannot just sit here all day and do absolutely nothing." She said and crossed her arms around her chest, giving him a stubborn look.

He smiled at her stubbornness. Honestly, not even Rowena was this stubborn! He raised an eyebrow when she would not look away, almost as if she were daring him to tell her that she could not tag along. And he was very tempted to tell her so, but he knew that she was not just a helpless little girl; she could be useful to him in the search.

"Very well," he conceded and watched as she relaxed and greeted him with a wide grin.

"I knew you'd see reason," she replied and dragged her chair backwards before she stood up and looked at him again. "Well? What are we waiting for?"

He looked at her and smirked. He could not help but find the witch increasingly interesting as time passed. There was a sparkle in her lovely brown eyes that cried out for adventure and he abruptly wondered what house she had belonged to in her own time period. No, it was better if he not know.

"Let us go then," he said as he too stood up, taking notice of just how petite she was compared to him and most of the women he associated with. However that meant nothing when it came to the use of a wand and he'd seen her use it, she was a fighter, and of that he was sure.

It didn't take them long to reach their desired destination. They stood side by side, facing it: the Forbidden Forest. Both wore determined masks as they gazed at the looming beast before them–for that is what it seemed to be, a beast ready to consume them whole; the trees, silent sentinels to the creatures that dwelled within. It was Salazar who broke the silence, as he turned to look at Hermione and placed both hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him.

"No matter what, do not leave my sight. Do you understand, Hermione?"

She looked up at him and drew her brows together. She did not know whether to feel insulted that he did not trust her enough to hold her own or flattered to have him fret over her. She sighed and nodded but made sure to roll her eyes to let him know that she was not happy being coddled. He saw her eye roll and snorted at the girl's nerve but did not comment on it.

The two of them walked side by side, their wands drawn. Salazar had his gaze fixed ahead of them, he knew that whatever had hurt Rowena was still here but definitely not this close to the castle, or at least hoped so. As Salazar walked ahead of her with caution, Hermione walked bravely behind him, not for a moment did her steps falter and it was clear that she did not fear the Forbidden Forest. No, she did not hesitate because she had been here many times before.

"How many times have you been here?" he asked her, trying to keep his tone light, almost as if the answer did not interest him.

She glanced at him and a small smile adorned her features. "Plenty," she admitted, confirming his suspicions, "I lost count of how many school rules, Ronald, Harry and I broke."

Salazar arched an amused brow, "And there would be no punishment?" he asked in surprise. They were very strict with school rules; maybe that was not the case in the future. How odd.

She chuckled and shook her head, "Oh no, of course there was. We would have detention…mostly Ron and Harry to be honest."

He nodded and wondered if Ron and Harry were her siblings. It was not unusual to have siblings attending the school all at the same time. He suddenly took a second look at her, just how old was she? Frowning, he kept his attention on her, which did not go unnoticed by the bushy-haired witch who cast him an odd look.

"Is there something wrong?" she questioned curiously.

"Well, yes. It must be hard…," he started, not knowing how quite to go on about it without offending her, "to be separated from your family, friends and…husband."

At his words, the young woman froze in her steps and without warning burst out laughing. Upon seeing his confused and somewhat offended expression, she held out a hand and shook her head, "No! Goodness no! I am not married!"

He frowned again at her response even though he could not figure out why for the life of him he was so relieved to hear it.

"But it is very common for women your age to be married and even have born children," he said in a nonchalant tone.

She huffed, "Thank Merlin it is not like that where I come from," she said as she scanned her surroundings since both were now deeper into the forest. "Women in my time choose when and whom to marry." She replied looking up at him, observing the way his eyes widened slightly at her statement.

"You jest."

"I am serious." She countered and flashed him a smile, "Things are very different where I hail from."

He said nothing for a while and tried to imagine a world where women had a say on such matters but he simply could not. It was absurd that women should be allowed the freedom to do as they pleased, to remain unmarried, and have the ability and option to decline marriage proposals.

"I bet that is a lot to take in," Hermione added as she smirked at him. "Women, in my time period, are powerful and feared." She loved seeing the shocked expression on his face. "In fact–" she never got to finish her sentence as out of nowhere a piercing scream ripped through the air. High and shrill, the barely human shriek echoed into the forest and both Hermione and Salazar turned to look toward the source.

Hermione felt her blood turn into ice as she realized that the frightening sound came from the trees to their right.

Another scream, this one was long and tore through the air and Salazar's heart lurched. "ARVAIN?!" he called out, his wand ready to face whatever was out there.

Hermione looked over at Salazar and realized that the boy was someone he knew. He looked genuinely concerned and she could not help but feel the same. She looked around as the scream had sounded more distant this time, almost as if whatever was out there knew that they were there on the hunt for someone.

"I have never heard anything like this before," Hermione whispered as she walked slowly, trying to keep their noise at a minimum.

"Nor have I," Salazar replied and inhaled deeply as he moved after her. He moved a hand to her shoulder and when she glanced at him over her shoulder he shook his head. "You stay behind me," and then just as she was about to protest, he pressed a finger to her lips, "I am not asking."

She glared at him and slapped his arm away. She knew he only wanted the best for her but she was not a helpless little girl. She would have protested further but found that now was not the place to do so. She followed behind him, often looking over her shoulder as she did not wish for them to be surprised from behind. She saw Salazar moving ahead of her with a practiced ease. She knew he was used to being out in the wilderness but he moved with a confidence that far surpassed anything she had ever seen before. Did he really think himself to be indomitable?

Rolling her eyes, she thought back to when he had had a wand pointed at his neck. Even then, he had been one arrogant prick, daring the man to kill him. Almost as if he thought himself untouchable; she could not help but wonder why. Why would he think himself to be so far superior to all others that he was certain they would be too frightened to lay a finger on him, let alone slay him?

A twig snapped somewhere to his left and Salazar jerked his head in that direction. He stilled his breath and listened. He raised a hand at Hermione and she came to an abrupt halt. She heard it now: another snap, this time louder.

"Stay here," he abruptly ordered and advanced toward the noise he had just heard. Not bothering to hide his progress, he pushed aside branches as he walked, letting them whip back to their original positions when he passed. He took a deep breath and clenched his jaw as he heard Hermione following right after him.

Stubborn little witch!

He broke through the branches, Hermione hot on his heels, and when she too emerged from the trees, what met her eyes was nothing she had ever seen, nor wanted to see ever again. She let out a loud gasp and quickly covered her mouth, almost gagging at the smell of the decaying bodies. She could see several centaurs, all of them dead, scattered across the clearing. She watched as Salazar stepped up, hesitantly, to the closest centaur and knelt down to get a look. It seemed like even the birds had quieted, as if they had known this place to be off limits. Hermione neared him as she took in the horrible scene before her.

"Do not touch it!" He all but warned her, his chest tight–was what had done this still lurking in the forest?

Hermione quickly knelt next to him, "There are no visible wounds on any of them."

He jerked his head toward her and nodded, "Rowena got sick as she attempted to heal one of them. They reek of dark magic." He whispered.

Before Hermione could even begin to think of what might have happened to the creatures, another twig broke, this time straight in front of her, right behind the trees.

Suddenly, another snap was heard, then another. It was approaching them fast.

And then she saw him.

The boy came out of the trees; she was rooted to the spot, her gaze fixed on the boy's unnaturally pale skin and enormous eyes. The boy leaped into the air and was suddenly on top of her, slamming into her shoulders; he was incredibly strong for such a small boy. Hermione crashed to the ground and hit the back of her head quite hard, muddling both her vision and the rest of her senses.

"Arvain!" Salazar called out pushing the boy away from Hermione. He watched as the boy struggled, emitting strange guttural sounds, sounding much like a feral, wild animal.

"Let me go!" Arvain shrieked, spittle flying from his mouth. "She needs to die! She needs to die! She changed everything! It is all her fault!"

"Calm down, Arvain!" Salazar ordered, his voice calm, as he continued to restrain the still struggling boy. "She is a friend."

Hermione was once again standing and took an involuntary step back, horrified by what the boy had just shouted.

"SHE DOES NOT BELONG!" Arvain shouted, "I saw it–it will not stop…it will not stop until she is dead!"

"All right, that is enough!" Salazar leaned down and whispered a single word and the boy fell limp in his arms. He then carefully picked him up and regarded Hermione silently. The two stared at each other for what seemed to be an eternity until he finally broke the silence, "You understand the consequences of you being here, do you not?"

The world seemed to tilt around her and she nodded slowly, eyes searching; trying to read him but his face was a blank mask. Unreadable. And it terrified her.

* * *

The horses ran faster than the wind itself; the men were quiet but their grief, their anger and their hatred spoke volumes amidst the silence. It showed on their hardened faces and shone in their tear-filled eyes. The images of what used to be one of the most scenic and prosperous wizarding villages was now forever engraved in their minds as a vision of death and decay; the smell of burnt flesh still permeated the air that they breathed as they rode on, away from the decimated village. The sight of children–innocent children–impaled on spears was too much to bear.

Everyone knew what this act meant. There would be no denying it now. The council would see this as an act of war.

Retribution would be in order.

And that meant that prominent wizarding families would have to elect sides.

* * *

When they returned to the castle, Salazar quickly and abruptly dismissed her. He ran off carrying an unconscious Arvain in his arms. Hermione stood back, watching him go with a heavy heart as his last words played over and over in her mind. She only moved when the tall blonde-haired male was completely out of her range of sight. He was right of course. She had started to realize the consequences of her staying here in this era way before the boy's sudden outburst, but now it became much clearer that she was something dangerous to these people. Things were already starting to change and she could not shake the selfish feeling she held in her heart, despite the repercussions of her arrival. She didn't want to leave.

Even though she realized that she must, for the sake of these people–and specifically, for the sake of her future–she knew that she could not stay. It was just like Arvain had said, she did not belong. She had Harry and Ron….her mum and dad too.

As she paced back and forth in her room, she finally changed direction and walked towards the window. Opening it, she could feel the gentle wind caress her skin but then her gaze caught the sight of dozens of men riding horses, coming right through the main gates.

And she knew.

Something was about to change. Nothing would be the same ever again. Not for the people here. And she wondered, what did that mean for her?

* * *

Helga watched as men barked at each other, wizards or not, they were all the same. They were nothing but barbarians that did not know how to make their point across without shouting obscenities or drawing their wands at each other's throats. She sighed deeply, watching as both Godric and Slytherin tried to keep everyone calm, as they tried to establish order and prevent the other men from firing spells at one another. She in all honesty could not remember a time where both males were actually being agreeable to one another, let alone on the same side of an argument.

The door to the room was suddenly pushed open and its loud noise seemed to interrupt the commotion for just a second. Helga's gaze met Rowena's dark eyes and she quickly stood from her perch to come to her aid but Rowena halted her, holding a hand up. She looked pale, Helga concluded, but much better than she had a few days prior when she was still lying in bed, comatose.

The dark-haired woman's brows were pushed together at the sight of the grimy men waving their wands around as if they were mere toys. She coughed, to gather their attention but when that failed, she did what she did best, she shouted. "EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

Typical Rowena, she never changes. Helga allowed a small smile to play on her lips. Her friend really ought to learn some proper etiquette; she was not acting as a lady should. Clearly, growing up with six brothers had shaped Rowena into doing and saying whatever she pleased without thinking of the consequences of her words and actions.

Godric quickly whirled around, concern now swathed his features as he beheld Rowena. "You should be resting."

"And you should have sent for me the minute this lot arrived." She responded, her tone scolding, making Salazar whistle slightly earning him a glare of her own, one that he received with a grin. Cheeky little bastard.

"I am glad to see you well, my friend," he walked up to her, standing by her side, moving a hand to her shoulder and squeezing it softly, relaying the relief of his words with that one action. Trust men to avoid sentimental words completely, actions are their methods; after all actions speak louder than words. She would know, having six brothers and all.

Beaming, Rowena placed her own hand on top of his and returned the favour, patting his hand before lowering her arm, his own hand remaining on her shoulder, an act of support from the comely Slytherin. "All thanks to you, I heard," she replied, her voice light and teasing as she held his eyes for but a brief moment, before returning her gaze to the crowd before her, scrutinizing the assorted individuals present. What was going on to have all these men–furious and at each other's throats–gathered here, at Hogwarts? What were Godric and Salazar hiding from her?

She stepped away from Salazar and looked at Helga–who had remained where she had been seated moments before her entrance–who greeted her with a hesitant smile now on her features. Quickly she moved onto Godric, who seemed tense and out of sorts, and then back to Salazar who seemed almost relaxed, but the barely noticeable crease in his brow belayed his nonchalant appearance. Waiting for one of them to speak up, she continued switching her gaze back and forth from Salazar to Godric; Helga in this case would not be much of assistance to her as the two men would be. However, neither spoke; it seemed they did not wish to divulge anything to her. _Well then, if they won't answer, I shall take matters into my own hands._

She raised her chin slightly and making her way to the nearest chair available to her, she raised her voice, so as to be heard clearly among the racket. "Now, fill me in," she all but ordered as she lowered herself onto the chair, clasping her hands in her lap as she regarded the men calmly from her perch. At first no one spoke, but soon after, shouts rang out amongst the crowd of men, phrases here and there making it through the cacophony of sound. And what she did manage to hear did not bode well.

"….BLOODY MURDERED AN ENTIRE VILLAGE!" A blonde-haired man exploded, punching the table nearest him. At his outburst the men near him jumped back slightly, giving him room, and the noise level slowly began to decrease as images of the village flashed through their mind's eye. The mood quickly became somber.

"He has been gathering far too many men–" A shout was heard from somewhere to her far left, but Rowena was not too sure from who it came from, as there was a cluster of men there, nodding their heads in accordance to the man's utterance.

"We all know who is behind this!" A collective murmur of agreement rose from the crowd as they looked at one another and then the Founders, who remained quiet as they registered what the men were saying.

"CHILDREN IMPALED!" Another man shouted in absolute fury; flesh contacting wood once again rang out in the room. Helga gasped at the information, clutching her hands to her chest as she looked on. Who would do such a thing? What human being would so willingly take the lives of innocents without remorse?

"ON BLOODY SPEARS!" Another added with a loud growl. Helga looked away, and Rowena closed her eyes as she quelled her sadness. It would not do for her to allow her emotions get in the way, and from the looks of Helga, she too was trying to prevent an outcry of discontent. Indeed, it would not do to react as these men before her, regardless of the monstrosity of the act committed.

"Jonathan."

The name sounded quietly, a whisper among the men, each looking at one another and nodding in affirmation. Yes, it could only be Jonathon, only he would be able to commit such a monstrosity. Rowena opened her eyes, clasping her hands tightly, her knuckles an alarming shade of white, as she looked at both Godric and Salazar. The men returned her gaze with somber looks and she quickly cast her gaze to Helga, but the poor woman was seated and staring numbly at her clasped hands, her blond locks falling over her shoulders. She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply. It seemed that everything was pilling on top of them, first the assassination of the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest; the curse she was placed under and was fortunate enough to have been freed from with the aid of Salazar, and now this? She knew what needed to be done.

"It is time," Rowena breathed out. Once again she closed her eyes, and pinched the bridge of her nose as she released another breath of air, "Send the owls. The council must be held as soon as possible." However, before any action could be taken, a loud hiss of air was heard, rooting everyone to their spots.

"So it is settled then!?" The intimidating figure of Godric Gryffindor demanded. His fury was palpable, coursing through the air in streams of light–he was beyond livid, he was infuriated that they would try to drag the council into this. "He is only but a man!" What need did they have to summon the council? One man could not illicit such an urgent response? What was Rowena thinking?

"With an army behind him lad! I don't know where or how he got one, but he needs to be stopped!" A large man with a red-beard roared, clearly disapproving of Godric's exclamations. Did the boy not understand that a man, especially one of Jonathan's caliber, could cause great harm to their society? Now was not the time for acts of youthful hubris. The council was needed, and urgently, for the safety of the rest of the wizarding villages yet untouched by Jonathon and his legion.

"You should have killed him when you had the chance," Salazar hissed out as he directed a cold glare in Godric's direction. At his utterance the room fell completely silent, the gathered men and female half of the Founders observed both males, all knowing the history behind their relationship. Rowena and Helga watch in dismay, more noticeable in Helga–who raised her hands to her mouth as she shook her head–than Rowena, whose lips thinned out, and sat rigidly in her seat. This did not bode well for them. No. Not at all.

"Forgive me, if I am unlike you," Godric hissed out and returned his glare with equal force. He glared a while longer at Salazar before gathering himself and storming towards the doors. As he walked past the fair-haired male, he roughly jounced his shoulder. Salazar gritted his teeth and turned, watching Godric storm out, his fists clenched before turning to face the remaining individuals in the room. All was silent as he looked at them. The men were shifting, avoiding eye contact with him and he scoffed at them before he turned his gaze to Helga, who had remained quite during the unfolding events. She gazed at him, near tears, and shook her head before looking away; it looked like she was ready to bolt. His gaze softened for a moment, but then hardened once again when he saw her rise and practically dash out of the hall, not even sparing him a glance, her hair fanning out before her as she fled.

He clenched and unclenched his fists as his shoulders became rigid. He turned away from the door, and glanced at Rowena, who observed him with a straight face, and despite the calmness she exuded, her eyes said it all. She looked upon him with pity. Pity? As if he, Salazar Slytherin, needed pity? The nerve of her! He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he cast one last look at the people gathered in the hall–who seemed to jump in their shoes at the frigidity in his gaze–before turning around without another word. His hair arced through the air as he made his turn, before settling neatly back onto his shoulders, as he too followed in his fellow Founders' footsteps, and with a grace that only he could possess, walked out of the hall, head high and shoulders tense.

The men gathered glanced at one another nervously, before looking at the last remaining Founder. Rowena sighed and rubbed at her temples. This was not turning out to be a good day at all. She was not even awake for a full day and already everything had gone to hell, all nine levels of them. Giving a tight smile to the remaining men, she once again repeated her orders, and watched as several men scurried off to send out the owls, while others looked to Rowena for guidance.

She sighed again. Might as well get used to it, she thought, as she signaled for the last few remaining the men to follow her. After this, she was returning to her cot, she definitely did not need this, not after a near death experience.

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**Author's Note: Say, If you cast Salazar, Godric, Rowena and Helga for a movie, who would you pick?! Please let me know in a review! I am trying to work on a trailer for this story. It would be interesting to know your opinions.**

**Thank you as always for reading.**


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